Somewhere in the Fallout
by Zikadiel
Summary: Castiel doesn't like Fridays, especially when Gabriel's friend Dean, who loves to tease him, stays over for the night to drink and play stupid games, but it's not so bad this time when Dean gets a bit drunk and wants to say sorry. Destiel high school AU. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

Castiel Novak disliked Fridays. Everyone at school was far too loud in their excitement for the weekend; milling around in noisy droves, discussing their plans for the next few days before Monday, and girls telling each other what they'd be wearing for whatever they were planning. It was repetitive, dull, and downright annoying to have to listen to.

He shoved books around in his locker, trying to find the one he needed for his next class. It was ridiculous how easy it was to lose something in such a small space. His brother, Gabriel, stood nearby with his back against the lockers, eating toffees and somehow managing to whistle the world's most annoying tune through it while he watched people passing them by. Right now Castiel didn't have the tolerance to even wonder how he did that.

"Have you moved it?" He asked, fixing Gabriel with a stern glare.

"Why would I do that, little bro?" Gabriel asked innocently, but his smirk gave him away.

"Because you love to torment me," Castiel sighed, wondering whether it was worth pleading or if he should just make do without the book until Gabriel got bored of hiding it. "Please can I have it back?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Gabriel chuckled.

Fine, a waiting game it was then. If he didn't mention it again Gabriel would probably just dump it back in his locker after a day or two.

"Hey, nerd!" A voice behind him called. Castiel turned just in time to see Dean Winchester's outstretched arm shove him sideways into his open locker door. He landed against it awkwardly and felt a pain shoot through his arm and shoulder.

"Watch it, Winchester!" Gabriel yelled. Dean only glanced back and sent them a wink and a small wave, his usual shit-eating grin spread across his face. Gabriel frowned at the back of Dean's quickly retreating head and muttered, "Asshole."

"He's your friend," Castiel grumbled, rubbing his shoulder where he'd caught it on the door. Dean had never really bullied him, but he'd always been a little over rough; pushing him around or calling him dumb names and mocking him whenever he got the chance, but never for anything too serious.

"You expect _nice_ people to be friends with me?" Gabriel laughed. Gabriel was a year older than Castiel and Dean, but he was a troublemaker in school and when his grades had fallen so low that he had ended up being held back for his last year, he'd found himself in many of Castiel's classes, to Castiel's utter displeasure. He wasn't exactly a favourite among the popular kids, but that had more to do with him not wanting to be popular than anything else. He could have been popular if he wanted – he was funny, witty, and had all the social skills that Castiel would never have, but he just didn't like many people.

"Not really," he admitted with a grimace. He glanced back up the corridor to where Dean was talking with a cheerleader, Lisa Braeden, and felt his stomach tighten unpleasantly when Dean smiled and lifted a hand to tuck a loose lock of Lisa's dark hair behind her ear. Dean was probably trying to get her to sleep with him, Castiel remarked silently to himself, and from the way she was giggling shyly and smiling back at him it looked like he wouldn't have much trouble with that. Not that Dean ever did have much trouble getting whoever he wanted. He turned away from the sight of them and slammed his locker door shut, glaring when he noticed Gabriel grinning at him like he knew something. "Do you find this humorous?"

"Course not," Gabriel chuckled. "Want me to take away his tormenting privileges for a week for that shoulder?"

"I'll be fine," he assured his brother. It wasn't that bad. It wouldn't have hurt him at all if he hadn't landed against his locker door at such an awkward angle. "Is it common practice for friends to give privileges to each other to torment their younger siblings?"

"Oh relax. He's just pulling pigtails."

"But I don't have any pigtails," Castiel said, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"No, that's not what I…" Gabriel sighed and gave up, letting his amused grin stretch even wider across his face. "Anyway, you don't need me to look after you. You're a big boy now, aren't you?"

"I don't appreciate your condescending tone, Gabriel," Castiel retorted. He was a lot stronger than he looked. If anyone had ever really tried to hurt him he'd be perfectly capable of standing up for himself and he was already taller than Gabriel, but that hardly counted since most people their age were at least a little bit taller than Gabriel.

"And I don't appreciate my baby brother walking around with hair that looks like he got dragged through a hedge backwards, but short of shaving it all off there's not really a lot we can do about that," Gabriel said, snickering when Castiel raised a hand and tried unsuccessfully to flatten the unruly mop of dark hair on his head, muttering that he wasn't a baby, but then Gabriel's face suddenly grew serious. "He's never actually hurt you though, has he?"

"No," he confessed, quickly giving up on his hair. "He's just an irritation."

"Well then," Gabriel's smile jumped straight back into place. "Hey, you irritate me, I irritate him, he irritates you – we make it a full circle."

"He's _your_ friend," Castiel reminded him again. "I don't see why I should have to put up with him. And for the record, you irritate me too."

Gabriel laughed appreciatively and handed Castiel the book he was looking for, which Castiel took to be an apology on both Dean's and his brother's behalf. He didn't dislike Dean – quite the opposite actually – but the teasing was a nuisance he could have lived without. Castiel found it hard enough to concentrate on his work when Dean was around, even when he was leaving him alone.

"Come on, baby bro," Gabriel joked, "numerology awaits."

"I believe they still call it mathematics. Numerology would be a very different subject," Castiel informed him seriously, but Gabriel only laughed at him. He wondered if he was being mocked again.

Math class was one that Castiel usually looked forward to. It wasn't exactly that he enjoyed it, but he did understand it. Math just came easily to him. Numbers never lied and they never changed, only the pattern changed. It was structured, ordered and much simpler to figure out so long as you understood the principal of the equation. Calculations were always easier for Castiel to understand than people were.

It was also one of the few classes the three of them took together, but his brother and Dean would sit at the back of the class and generally do nothing productive at all with their time, while Castiel would sit at the front of the class next to a girl named Charlie. They weren't friends, but they were friendly enough and she didn't disrupt his thoughts.

Dean and Gabriel must have been in a very good mood today, however, because they were louder than usual and flicking things toward the front of the class. Castiel thought they were probably aiming at him. Mr Crowley, their very British and very angry teacher, yelled himself hoarse until he reached the end of his tether and separated them.

"You, moron!" He pointed at Dean furiously. "Down here, _now_."

"Why me?"

"Just do it, and wipe that smirk off your face."

"He's the one who got kept behind a year," Dean pointed a thumb at Gabriel, who was making a visible effort not to burst into laughter. "Move him."

"You'll be getting kept behind, boy, if you don't stop fooling around like an idiot and pick up your grades."

Dean didn't quite manage to wipe the smirk from his face, but he did pick up his things and step down to the front of the class as he was told without another word.

"And you," he roared at Charlie, who jumped in shock and stared at Mr Crowley like he'd just pulled out a gun and pointed it right at her. "Take his seat."

"But I –"

"_NOW!_" He bellowed at her. Charlie jumped to her feet and moved to the back of the class. Mr Crowley didn't always have such a foul temper, but Dean and Gabriel could have that effect on people if they were in the right mood; a mischievous mood.

Castiel turned around to see Gabriel say something – probably vulgar or idiotic – to Charlie when she sat down, and Charlie offer him little more than a look of contempt in return before she busied herself with her work.

Mr Crowley didn't even bother speaking to Dean; he simply pointed to Charlie's vacated seat and glared at him until he slid behind the desk.

"You shouldn't antagonise people," Castiel said to him.

"Why not?" Dean asked, waggling his eyebrows. "It's fun."

Castiel narrowed his eyes but then thought better of continuing the conversation. He got on with his work and tried to ignore Dean while he bounced his pencil repeatedly on the table, flicking it between his fingers as he stared down in absolute bewilderment at the page in front of him. Castiel only lasted ten minutes before he just couldn't take it any longer.

"You can count, can't you?" He hissed.

"Of course I can count," Dean bit out, "I just never learnt how to count with letters like a nerd."

"It's really not that hard," he sighed. "If you would pay more attention in class instead of wasting your time so often and just –"

"Ooh, got your bossy voice on today, Cas?" Dean teased.

Castiel gave up and went back to his own work again, trying – and probably failing – not to blush at Dean's nickname for him. He knew Dean only used it to annoy him, but he'd never admit that actually he kind of liked it. It wasn't long before Dean was back to the pencil flicking and Castiel snatched it from him in frustration.

"Hey!" Dean yelled loudly, grabbing the pencil back.

"Would you girls stop bickering and shut up for five bloody minutes!" Mr Crowley growled at them. "Kids. Why did I have to work with kids?"

"It does seem a rather odd career choice for someone who –" Castiel felt Dean's elbow jab into his ribs, hidden by the table, and he quickly looked up to see Mr Crowley's red face darkening angrily. He let his sentence fall away and buried his face in his textbook.

Things calmed down again and Castiel glanced at Dean's page where his answers were all clearly made up and he'd started doodling on the corner of his page. Castiel sighed loudly. Dean looked up at him and paused for a moment before asking, "What?"

"Your answers are wrong," he said simply.

"Yeah," Dean snorted. "I figured they would be. Why do you care?"

"It's a simple algebra equation," he said, ignoring Dean's question. He stared down at the book while he explained to Dean how to find the value of 'x' and 'y' without making up random numbers, but when he looked up Dean was just staring at him, head resting in his hand propped up by his elbow on the table, with a slightly vacant expression and a strange smile on his face that Castiel couldn't quite figure out.

"You are such a nerd," he declared, probably for the hundredth time that week already.

"Am I boring you?" Castiel asked stiffly.

"No, no," Dean laughed, shaking his head. "Go on, I'm listening."

"Are you taking in a single thing I'm telling you?"

"Yeah sure," he grinned. "Blah blah numbers blah letters math blah."

"Fine," Castiel snapped, pushing the textbook back toward him. "I am obviously wasting my time."

"No, Cas, I'm sorry. I'm listening," he insisted, still smiling. He sat up a little straighter and nudged the textbook back a few inches closer to Castiel. "Go on try again – like I'm five."

Castiel looked at Dean, trying to decide whether he was making fun of him again or not, and found himself staring at the pout on Dean's mouth and thinking to himself that no one should be allowed lips so full and perfect. It was like they were just begging to be kissed and licked and bitten down on gently. Dean's tongue peeked out and wet his lips, causing Castiel to catch his breath. His eyes flicked back up to Dean's and he realised he'd been caught staring. He felt his cheeks and ears burning and quickly turned back to the textbook to once again try to explain to Dean exactly how to solve the problems, hoping his awkwardness would just be forgotten. People were rarely surprised anymore when Castiel acted weird.

By the end of the class Dean had actually managed a few correct answers by himself, and the rest were close enough compared to how they were before. Castiel barely managed to get through his own work with Dean sitting right there next to him brushing the end of his pencil over his bottom lip in a way that made Castiel think of some very inappropriate things that he would much rather be doing than 'counting with letters like a nerd'. When Dean looked up at him again Castiel couldn't help blushing furiously as though Dean might have heard what he was thinking. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on his own paper throughout the rest of the class.

When Mr Crowley glanced down at Dean's work he declared himself astonished at the fact that Dean had actually achieved something and informed both Dean and Charlie that they would be keeping those seats for the remainder of the school year. Castiel was torn between pride that in less than an hour he'd managed to teach Dean Mathematics better than their teachers had done in years, and horror that he would be doing just that for four hours a week until they graduated. Charlie made a sound of despair and Castiel turned around in his seat in time to see Gabriel twist his face. He still refused to look at Dean's face to see his reaction.

He heaved a sigh of relief when the bell finally rang to signal the end of the class. They all heard Mr Crowley yelling "_Do your bloody homework!_" as they milled out of the classroom door hurriedly.

Gabriel hadn't done too badly himself. He was by no means stupid, he only lacked the desire to push himself in such 'pointless' things as school work. It was no secret that Gabriel would love nothing more than to just drop out of school and do something ridiculous like join the circus. Gabriel could do extremely well if he would only bother to actually do it.

"Dude," Dean gasped, staring down at Gabriel's paper. "When did you get good at this crap? I had to have your nerdy little brother sat next to me doing his dork-whispering thing to figure this shit out."

"I studied," Gabriel told him, "and believe it or not but, not sitting near you helps too. You're a bad influence."

Dean smirked like he was proud of that fact.

"Come on, asshole," Gabriel said, walking away before Dean could say any more about it.

"Sorry about the shoulder," Dean said, winking at Castiel and prodding him with one finger in exactly the place where a small bruise had formed under his shirt sleeve. Castiel held back a wince and turned away from him to hide his flushed cheeks, but Dean was already walking away to catch up with Gabriel. Heading to his next class alone he made a mental note to reproach Gabriel later for mentioning his shoulder to Dean.

– –

Castiel took his time walking home, purposefully walking through the piles of fallen leaves on the pavement, enjoying the satisfying crunch under his shoes with each step. He was so absorbed in staring at the ground that he didn't notice the black Chevrolet Impala parked outside of his front door until he was right beside it.

"Wonderful," he muttered under his breath, considering whether it would be worth going inside or if he would be better to just go to the library for a few hours and come back home when Dean would likely be gone.

He hesitated, but the steadily dropping temperature won out in the end and he stole into the house as quietly as he could, hoping to sneak upstairs unnoticed and spend the rest of the night until Dean left hiding in his room forgotten.

Castiel did his best to ignore Dean and Gabriel yelling at the television while he did his homework. Once he realised he would never finish his homework while they continued their argument with the television he tried to read a book, but he couldn't concentrate with them getting louder and louder downstairs. He tried to sketch something, but he'd never been very good and the noise was just too distracting. Eventually they went quiet again, but his irritation, boredom, and growling stomach forced him to go down the stairs and find food.

Gabriel was in the kitchen stocking the fridge with beer when Castiel walked into the room. He groaned when he realised what that meant; game night. Whenever Dean's father was away for work at the same time as his and Gabriel's father the two of them would have an entire night to get drunk and play pointless video games until a ridiculous hour in the morning, making enough noise that Castiel struggled to sleep and was surprised the neighbours hadn't complained yet. Then Castiel would be left to clean up their mess in the morning while Dean slept in the spare room until midday sometime and Gabriel slept for the rest of the day wherever he happened to have landed when he couldn't stay awake any longer. Thankfully it was usually on his bedroom floor, but Castiel had found him sleeping fully clothed in the bathtub one time.

"Don't bother looking for food," Gabriel told him. "I ordered pizza."

"I'm not overly fond of pizza," Castiel grumbled. He heard the front door close and footsteps going up the stairs. He assumed that this was Dean taking his stuff up to the spare room. Castiel guessed that Sam, Dean's brother, would be probably staying at Ellen's for the night.

"Well, good luck making a beer sandwich with stale bread."

"You didn't buy any groceries?"

"Course I did," Gabriel said indignantly. "I bought beer and pizza."

Castiel opened his mouth to argue that no, buying cheap beer and ordering pizza in did not count as buying groceries, but a loud crash and a yell from above them interrupted before he could get a word out.

"_What the fuck?_" They heard Dean screaming from upstairs. "Oh gross, Gabriel!"

Gabriel couldn't stop laughing for long enough to tell Castiel what he'd done, but it became clear once Dean stomped into the room with a paste-like mixture of raw egg and flour covering his head and shoulders, a bucket in his hands, and a look of thunder on his face. Castiel fought back his grin, not wanting Dean to turn his frustrations on him when he was so obviously ready to pick a fight now after Gabriel's prank. He slipped past and left them to it, deciding he'd just wait in his room until the pizza arrived.

Castiel sat on his bed with his back resting against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him and his sketchpad on his knees. He tried drawing simple items from around his room, but none of it ever turned out right. He wanted to be good at art like he was with numbers, but maybe art was just something he was never meant to be capable of.

The sound from the shower running in the bathroom helped him to relax, but he found it difficult to devote his attention to his own bad drawings when his brain only wanted to think about Dean wet and naked in the room directly opposite his. He was pretty sure he'd get much more malicious torture from him than a few jokes and teasing comments if Dean ever knew he thought of him that way.

He tried to draw his own hand, but realised before he got very far that it wasn't going to turn out well at all. Gabriel was much better at this sort of stuff than Castiel was, but he'd been practicing a lot longer. The one thing that Castiel could think of that he was better at than his brother was sports, but that was something he had never really enjoyed no matter how well he did.

When the sound of the shower suddenly stopped, Castiel found himself wishing he'd shut his bedroom door as soon as he'd come back up the stairs. He jumped from his bed to close it, but just as his hand landed on the doorknob, the bathroom door opened and Dean stepped out with only his towel around his waist.

Castiel's breath caught in his throat as he found himself frozen to the spot with his mouth hanging slightly open like a deer in the headlights, watching the drops of water falling from Dean's hair and rolling down the tanned skin on his muscular chest. The low afternoon light from the window gave his wet skin a strange luminosity and his green eyes shone brighter than ever.

"What are you staring at, freak?" Dean growled.

Castiel felt his face burning furiously and didn't wait for Dean to walk away or start yelling at him. He slammed the door shut fast and dropped the floor with his back against the door and his heart hammering wildly in his chest. He put his face in his hands and gulped in a few deep panicky breaths. No one knew he was into guys; they all just thought he was weird and that that was why he never bothered trying to get a girlfriend. He only hoped Dean would put it down to his weirdness and forget about it.

Castiel was perfectly fine with who he was – he'd already come to terms with that a while back – but he could really do without the extra torture of having anyone finding out while he was still at school, especially Dean.

When his pulse calmed down again enough for him to move he climbed back onto his bed and stared down at his half-finished attempts at drawing. He couldn't banish the image of Dean fresh out of the shower from his mind and so turned the page to start a new sketch, drawing it from memory.

It was getting dark outside and he'd just about finished the sketch by the time he heard the knock at the door to signal the arrival of their supper. He stared down at the page and twisted his face in displeasure at it. Nothing he ever drew looked right. He threw the pad of paper across the room, vowing never to bother himself with it again, before heading down the stairs.

– –

Gabriel handed out the beers and placed the pizza in its open box on the coffee table between them all. After he put on a DVD and turned out the lights, Gabriel sat on the sofa next to Castiel while Dean took the armchair closest to the television. The movie was clearly Gabriel's choice, all explosions and people doing violent things to each other. It must have been funny though because Dean and Gabriel spent most of it laughing, but Castiel didn't understand most of the jokes, and the ones he did understand he simply didn't find very amusing. He gave up on the movie before long and let his eyes drift over to Dean instead; watching him smile and laugh at whatever obscene joke was being made.

He watched the way the light from the television danced and flickered over Dean's face, highlighting his cheeks and the slight crease at the corner of his eyes when he laughed too hard. He watched the way Dean's tongue flicked out to catch a string of melted cheese when he ate a slice of pizza, and the way his throat moved when he took a drink from his beer. Once or twice Dean would glance over at him, as though he could feel Castiel staring, and Castiel would look back at the television quickly, thankful that the lights were out so that neither Dean nor Gabriel would notice his cheeks growing pinker each time this happened. He tried to keep his sights focused on the movie, determined to ignore the way Dean's eyes lingered on him a little too long.

Castiel was pretty sure Dean was getting more and more aggravated with him. He was probably angry and wishing Castiel would just leave the room, but he didn't want to give in and move just yet. Gabriel appeared oblivious to Dean's discomfort with Castiel and continued to laugh loudly at everything that happened on the screen.

When the credits finally rolled, Castiel picked up all the empty beer bottles from down by Gabriel and Dean's feet and walked away to put them in the recycling with his own bottle, glad for a reason to finally get out of the room without making it look suspicious. He didn't go back to the living room, not wanting to make things any more uncomfortable than they already were. It was still a little early to go to bed on a Friday, but there really wasn't much else for him to do. He climbed the stairs to his room and stripped down to his boxers, dumping his clothes on the floor before crawling under the covers.

– –

The sound of gunfire and screaming echoed through the walls of the house and Castiel jolted awake, fighting off the last tendrils of a strange dream that clung on as he opened his eyes in the darkness. He blinked a few times before realising that the noises were coming from downstairs. He glanced briefly at the digital clock digital that sat on the table by his bed and his brain registered that it was past midnight.

The screaming was Gabriel and Dean's voices yelling things at each other that Castiel couldn't very well make out among the noise of whatever game that it was they were playing. He tried to turn over and go back to sleep but couldn't block out the voices and explosions travelling up through the house from beneath him.

Sighing heavily, Castiel flung off the covers and dragged himself out of bed, throwing on a t-shirt that was about three sizes too big for him. He wandered, bleary-eyed and yawning, down the stairs and into the living room to see Gabriel and Dean at war. Both were bellowing at each other and at the television so that neither of them was making any sense over the racket of the gunshots and bombs on their game. Castiel didn't know what the name of the game they were playing was, but it looked an awful lot like the same game they'd tried to force him to join in on last time.

He hovered in the doorway, not wanting to interrupt until they took a break. Gabriel was sat on the floor about a foot away from the television, and Dean was hanging over the arm of the armchair on his stomach, occasionally swatting at Gabriel's head when he got in the way. He found it an almost amusing sight to behold, if only they weren't both wearing equally frenzied looks of madness on their faces while they screamed directions senselessly at each other. As it was, they looked like rabid and overgrown children. He moved closer, standing behind them both to watch the final moments of the messy battle play out.

Eventually they stopped and cried out triumphantly. Castiel guessed they must have defeated their enemies, but it was hard to tell. Maybe they'd just enjoyed the madness. The screen went dark for a moment and they must have spotted Castiel's reflection in the television standing behind them. Castiel thought he heard Gabriel's neck click when he whirled his head around, and Dean jumped up from the chair so fast that he looked like he'd been electrocuted.

"_Jesus-fucking-Christ-shit!_" Dean shouted, throwing his controller down angrily onto the armchair. "Don't fucking do that, Cas! You don't sneak up on people like that."

"My apologies," he muttered. "I came to ask that you lower the volume. The noise of your game is making it considerably difficult for me to sleep."

Dean sat down in the armchair, blowing out a breath of air to calm himself, and picked up his beer from the table where Castiel noticed the shot glasses and half empty bottle of something that he assumed was extremely alcoholic, but kept his disapproval to himself. Their father would be very cross with them if he found out, but Castiel knew that lecturing them would not make them stop, in fact it would only make them more likely to make more mess and get louder. Dean settled back in the chair to drink his beer.

"Don't be such a party pooper," Gabriel laughed, over the shock already. He was used to his little brother silently sneaking up behind him now and tended not to react much to it. Castiel didn't mean to sneak, he was just quiet, but he'd long since given up trying to explain that to anyone. "Why don't you join us for once instead of hiding away in your room?"

"Thank you for the invitation," Castiel said wearily, "but the last time I joined you I didn't find the experience altogether enjoyable."

"You're just a sore loser," Gabriel said before draining the last of his beer from the bottle and reaching for another.

"You both targeted me and killed me repeatedly," he huffed.

"Well that's the nature of war, little brother," Gabriel shrugged. "That's the game and you'll never get better if you don't try."

"I was on your team," Castiel snapped. He just wanted to get back to sleep.

Gabriel tried to hold it together for maybe half a second before he burst into laughter. Dean grinned at that, but kept his eyes fixed on Castiel, who was beginning to wish that he'd put some pants on over his boxers before coming down the stairs to speak to them. He'd been half asleep at the time though, and still would be if he wasn't so irritated by his obnoxious older brother.

"The neighbours will complain," he said, trying to keep his voice neutral. "Mr Turner will not be pleased if he's woken."

"That old son of a bitch can't hear shit," Dean said, his voice a little slow from the alcohol he'd consumed, "he's deaf as a fucking bat."

"Dean, your language is filthy," Castiel scowled disdainfully.

"Yeah," he smirked at Castiel, "I bet you like it that way."

"Castiel?" Gabriel laughed, shocked. "He's probably never had a dirty thought in his life! He's always been the good boy – daddy's little angel. All nice and pure and quiet aren't you, baby bro."

Castiel sucked in a sharp breath, his face and ears burning. A part of him wondered if Gabriel even knew how embarrassing he was, the rest of him tried to ignore the fact that he was probably doing it on purpose. Dean shrugged and took a long drink from his beer.

"Well," he chuckled after he'd drained that bottle, staring at the blank television screen, "you know what they say about the quiet ones. Freak in the sheets."

"That's gross, man," Gabriel twisted his face in repulsion. "I really don't want to have to think about what weird kinks my little brother might have."

"I am right here, you know," Castiel finally snapped, hearing the blood rushing in his ears and wondering how on Earth his face hadn't just melted off already. "I can hear you both."

Gabriel shrugged in what Castiel thought might have been a half apologetic way, but Dean just stared at him hard. He looked angry, though Castiel wasn't sure why and he couldn't do anything but stare back at him.

"Anyway," Gabriel said, "it's blind."

"Huh?" Dean muttered, finally tearing his eyes away from Castiel.

"It's blind as a bat, not deaf as a bat," he explained, turning back to the television to put their game back on. "And Rufus isn't deaf, he just gets too drunk to care."

"Oh. Yeah," Dean said, looking down at the empty beer bottle in his hand like he was expecting life's answers from it. "Whatever."

"You sure you don't want to join us?" Gabriel asked again.

"I am quite sure," Castiel said through gritted teeth. He wished he hadn't bothered coming down. He wished he had just stayed in bed and tried for longer to ignore the noise.

"Come on," Gabriel whined, apparently oblivious to his brother's discomfort. Or maybe he just didn't care. "Get yourself a beer and –"

"Just leave it," Dean interrupted him. "Let the nerd go to bed. He's obviously too good to hang out with us."

Castiel wanted to say that that wasn't true, but was too angry with them both to say anything else. Instead he just left the room as silently as he'd entered. The alcohol had apparently made them both deaf to the volume of their own voices and Castiel heard their conversation as he climbed the stairs to his room.

"Dude, your brother's so weird."

"Stop trying too hard. It's a bit pathetic."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, just … Nothing. Come on, we've got people to kill."

Castiel thought Dean didn't really need to try that hard to be an asshole. He was pretty good at it without trying. He yanked off his t-shirt, wrestling with it for a moment, and threw it to the floor. He almost kicked the bedside table in frustration, but took a deep breath and told himself not to lash out at inanimate objects and that he'd only end up with a sore foot and feeling worse. He had more self-control than that.

The loud sounds of war from the television started again as he climbed into bed, followed very shortly by Dean and Gabriel's voices barking instructions to each other, neither of them obviously listening to the other. He pulled the cover over his head and groaned to himself, determined to ignore it and to get back to sleep despite the noise.

– –

Castiel's eyes snapped open at the sound of his bedroom door slowly creaking opening and he pulled down the blanket to see a shadowed figure standing in the doorway in the dark. His brain took a few seconds to catch up with him as the dream he'd been having quickly filtered away from him. He was sure it had been a good one, but it was already forgotten.

"Gabriel?" He mumbled, glancing at the glowing numbers on the clock by the bed. "It's four o'clock in the morning. What do you want?"

The figure in the doorway stepped closer, swaying slightly, and as his eyes adjusted better to the dark Castiel realised it was too tall to be Gabriel. His throat went dry very quickly while he watched Dean step inside of the bedroom and shut the door quietly behind him. Castiel could smell the alcohol on him as he came closer to the bed and he wondered if he was about to get a beating or if Dean had just stumbled drunk into the wrong room after going to the bathroom.

Dean sat on the side of the bed with his back to Castiel and just stayed still for a moment. Castiel sat himself up slightly, propping himself up on his elbows. Dean said nothing, and he didn't move.

"Is everything okay?" Castiel asked him, hoping he wasn't sleepwalking.

After another stretched out moment of silence, Dean turned his body towards him and slid a hand under the covers. Castiel froze and forgot to breathe when he felt Dean's hand come to rest on the top of his leg, rubbing gently with his thumb. The air in the room somehow very quickly grew thick and heavy and almost too warm to breathe.

Dean didn't look at Castiel, who had suddenly lost his voice somewhere in his shock, but he continued to stare down at the place on the blanket where his hand rested beneath it. Time stretched on and when Castiel didn't push him away he started lightly stroking up and down the inside of Castiel's thigh with the tips of his fingers.

Castiel wondered if Dean could hear his heart thumping violently against his chest, because he certainly could. He was pretty sure Dean heard the quiet gasp that he made when he felt Dean's hand move higher to brush over his already hardening dick in his boxers. Encouraged by that, Dean moved closer, pulling away the cover and kneeling by Castiel's hips while he continued to run his palm over his thighs. Castiel couldn't see the expression on Dean's face, and he hoped that Dean couldn't see the look of absolute need that he was positive was on his.

Dean moved his hand over to Castiel's hip and squeezed slightly, rubbing his thumb over his hip bone. Castiel lay his head back down on the pillow without another word, half convinced that he'd wake up at any second. He shivered, though not with cold, as his nerves danced and every inch of him tingled with anticipation when he heard Dean's shaky breath before he moved closer.

Dean put his other hand on the pillow and leant over, bringing their faces close together, but he hesitated to go any further. With their mouths barely inches apart, Castiel could smell the beer on Dean's hot breath stronger than ever, and he raised his head to let their lips brush together softly. Dean's breathing was as ragged as his own while they stayed there, barely kissing, until Castiel felt bold enough to sweep his tongue across Dean's lips inviting him to take it further.

Dean didn't need any more encouragement than that. He pressed their lips together hard, forcing Castiel's head back down onto the pillow again, and then moved closer so that he was straddling Castiel's leg while his fingers teased the skin under the band of his shorts. Only through sheer force of will did Castiel hold himself back from thrusting his hips up against Dean's stomach in the pursuit of the friction he craved. Both of his hands stayed firmly down by his sides, clutching at the sheets while Dean's tongue slid past his lips to explore his mouth with vigour. He didn't know what they had been drinking shots of, but he found himself a lot less disapproving now that he could taste it in Dean's mouth.

Castiel felt his stomach flip. His breathing was so hard and fast that it made him dizzy. He thought he should probably be pushing Dean away, telling him that he was drunk and that he should sleep, but he didn't want to. He did almost break it off to start asking questions, to make sense of what was going on, but any moral thoughts he might have been having were chased away as soon as he felt Dean's hand playing at the elastic of his boxers.

Castiel lost the ability to think coherently anymore, and he really didn't care. He moaned faintly into Dean's mouth when he felt fingers ghosting delicately over the head of his erection, and he would deny that he let out any kind of whimper when those fingers moved away again, but he'd be lying. Dean pulled his head away, breaking the kiss, and Castiel could see enough now to recognise the grin on Dean's face before he came back down to press his mouth against Castiel's neck where his pulse fluttered wildly. He sucked on the skin, brushing his tongue over it while he slowly moved his lips down to Castiel's collar bone, occasionally nipping at his skin gently with his teeth, forcing a throaty groan from the boy underneath him while his fingers continued to tease tenderly closer to his aching cock, and away again. When he felt Dean's fingers brush up against him again Castiel let out a low involuntary whine and bucked his hips upward.

Dean moved his mouth back up from Castiel's collar to his ear to whisper, "God I fucking love the noises you make."

Castiel held back a growl of impatience, but couldn't prevent a gasp when Dean moved down again and his tongue darted out to lick the hollow of Castiel's neck and he pushed his hand further down past the stretchy band and into his boxers, stroking his shaft lightly with only his knuckles, giving barely any friction at all.

"I love the way you blush when you look at me," Dean whispered. "I'll bet you're blushing right now. I wish I could see it – your cheeks all flushed pink with wanting me."

Castiel would be willing to bet he was flushed too. His skin was hot and burning all over, needing to be touched. He still couldn't bring himself to speak, as though his voice was caught in his throat and all he could do was pant heavily and moan when Dean's fingers finally curled around his throbbing cock. He pushed his hips up against Dean's hand, needing his release, but Dean opened his hand again and slid it up Castiel's hip and higher, over his ribs and then to his nipple. His thumb rubbed circles around the raised nub while Dean's tongue flicked over the other, extracting a loud groan from Castiel.

"Shhh, Cas, not so loud," Dean whispered. Castiel could almost hear the smirk in his voice. "Don't wanna wake your brother."

Castiel replied by wrapping his arms around Dean's waist to dig his fingers into his back and rocking his hips up against him until Dean held him down. Castiel felt Dean's erection heavy on his thigh through Dean's pants and moved his leg to rub up against it, finally getting a low moan from him. He pulled at Dean's shirt, dragging it up and over his head to throw it to the floor.

"So much for being an angel," Dean whispered into his ear, chuckling quietly. Castiel pushed back his remembered embarrassment from earlier, attacking Dean's mouth again so that he would have an excuse to say nothing.

Dean moved back, only slightly, and pulled down the waistband of Castiel's shorts to his knees. Castiel kicked them off the rest of the way, leaving him naked and Dean only partly clothed. He rested a hand on Castiel's chest and trailed it slowly down his stomach.

"Do you like the way I touch you, Cas?" He asked, his voice barely even a whisper. He lightly caressed Castiel's hip bones with his fingers while he squirmed underneath him feverish with need. "Am I …" His voice seemed to choke him for a moment, and Castiel heard him swallow loudly before he continued, "Is it good?"

Castiel nodded his head, gasped out a breathless "yes!" and gripped onto Dean tighter, moving one hand from Dean's waist up to hold the back of his head. Dean's fingers closed around his cock and began stroking slowly while he rested his head on Castiel's shoulder and pressed his own crotch against Castiel's leg again, breathing heavily into his neck.

"I know you've been looking at me, Cas," he said, his voice catching slightly when he rocked his hips into Castiel's. "I've seen you looking. I bet you're not as quiet as you act in school. I want to know what filthy thoughts go through your mind when you're looking – what dirty things you think up when you're alone touching yourself."

Castiel could do nothing but gasp out Dean's name, panting heavily while Dean's hand picked up the pace, pumping his cock fast, and then slowing again. He felt himself getting closer, his orgasm just out of reach.

"God Cas," Dean groaned, pressing himself harder against Castiel, shamelessly rutting against his leg. "You don't even know how hot you are, do you? With your hair constantly looking like you just had sex … your eyes … and your mouth made for … _fuck!_"

Dean's hand and hips moved faster. He lifted his head and Castiel's eyes had adjusted enough that he could see his mouth half open while he stared down lustfully, barely holding on to his own voice. They were both so close now, skin sliding on sweat from the heat in the room, and Dean's pants still the only piece of clothing between them.

"The things I'd love to do to you …" Dean moaned. The drunkenness in his voice was a little more noticeable now. "Fuck, Cas! I want to touch you everywhere. I want you. _Fuck!_ I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Dean, shut up," he said. He didn't want an apology from him, not right now.

"I'm sorry," Dean muttered again, trailing frantic kisses over Castiel's chest. "The names … the pushing …"

"Stop it," he growled. If Dean _No-Chick-Flick-Moments_ Winchester wanted to apologise to him, then he could do it sometime when he was sober. "Tell me you're sorry later."

"I don't know what I'm … I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm sorry. "

Castiel felt that spark of anger from earlier flare up inside of him again, but he was unsure of exactly why this time. He reached up and tangled his hand in Dean's hair, dragging him into a furious kiss before forcing him down the bed by his shoulder with a low growl and pushing Dean's head down to his dick. He was surprised when Dean didn't resist him at all, and even more surprised when he willingly opened his mouth and took Castiel inside him, wrapping his lips around his cock while Castiel kept his grip on Dean's hair.

Castiel had nothing to compare it to, but while he was fairly convinced that Dean had never done this before, it was still pretty fucking good. He stared down to watch Dean's head bobbing up and down, sucking and using his tongue in some deliciously sinful ways. He surrendered to it, gasping and moaning loudly, more than a little bit hopeful that Gabriel would have passed out by now anyway and wouldn't be waking until the next afternoon.

Castiel moved his leg against Dean's crotch until he moaned loudly around his dick. Dean slowly came back off, ignoring Castiel's protests, and licked a stripe right up his shaft from the base. He wrapped his lips around the head and swirled his tongue around it until Castiel could hear his own whispering voice begging nonsensically. His lips slid back down again while he carefully tested himself, taking in as much of Castiel as he could until Castiel felt himself nudging the back of Dean's throat. When Dean swallowed around him, it made holding back unbearable. He tightened his grip on Dean's hair while he pulled back slowly.

Dean went back to moving quickly, his head moving up and down while he gripped the base of Castiel's cock and twisted gently, his thumb moving in circles. Castiel felt heat and pressure building inside and Dean reached down to rub himself while he sucked on Castiel, moaning around him again.

All of Castiel's restraint left him at that and his hips twitched up into Dean's mouth once, twice, three times, and then his jaw dropped slack and his eyes rolled, lights bursting behind the lids. He turned his face into his pillow to stifle the loud moan as he came, emptying himself into Dean's throat, which he swallowed down greedily.

Dean remained still for a moment until Castiel's cock stopped pulsing, and then slowly slid his lips up his length, lapping his tongue at the head before letting it go. He crawled back up the bed and pressed himself into Castiel, kissing greedily with his arms behind Castiel's back, holding on to his shoulders. He pushed his tongue past Castiel's lips, forcing him to taste the salty flavour of his own come in Dean's mouth. Castiel didn't care so long as he had Dean's lips and body pressed against his.

Dean thrust his hips and his lips travelled away from Castiel's, pressing kisses onto his jaw, his throat, his collar, and then to his ear where he nipped at the lobe tenderly. Castiel registered somewhere at the back of his mind that he could almost see daylight creeping closer through the gap in the curtains and that there wasn't many hours before he'd have to get up, but he ignored it.

Castiel slipped one hand between them to cup Dean's dick through his pants and lifted the other hand to his mouth to wet his fingers. He pushed his hand down the back of Dean's pants and glided his fingers closer to his entrance – not pushing in, only teasing, while Dean fucked into Castiel's curled palm and panted open mouthed onto his neck. He moved slowly, giving Dean the chance to let him know if he wanted him to back off, but he only seemed to grow more excited by it. He squeezed his hand a little harder when Dean's rhythm began to stutter and pressed two fingers against his hole.

Dean froze, back arching and mouth hanging open as he came and spilled himself into his pants with a choked moan. When it was over he sighed loudly and collapsed on top of Castiel's chest, panting and gasping against his throat, arms still clinging onto Castiel's shoulders like he thought he would fall away if he let go. His head was tucked just under Castiel's, right in the groove of his shoulder and neck, tickling Castiel's chin and cheek with his hair. They lay there in a tangle of sweaty limbs, unmoving for Castiel didn't know how long, sated and feeling each other's heartbeats against their chests slowly return to normal, until Dean looked up at Castiel and gulped audibly.

"Dean," Castiel whispered, not sure exactly what he was going to say.

Dean looked away quickly. He pushed himself up and moved away, refusing to look back at Castiel. He sat on the side of the bed, back where he'd started, with his face in his hands, just shaking and trying to steady his breathing. Castiel could see a little better now and he thought he maybe saw a pained look on Dean's face when he moved his hands to wrap them around himself. Castiel wanted to reach out a hand, to just touch Dean's arm to let him know it was okay, but he didn't think it would be welcome.

"_Shit_," Dean whispered, so quiet Castiel almost didn't hear it.

When he stood up and stumbled back out of the room, Castiel didn't try to stop him. He just lay there in the almost darkness, shivering slightly as the sweat cooled on his naked body and he wondered what the hell had just happened.

As he pulled the blanket back up around him, his brain assaulted him with all the things he hadn't been able to think since Dean had first touched him, but of all the wild and crazy half formed thoughts racing through his mind, flying through the spectrum from panic to elation, the only truly coherent sentence that his brain could put together for him was that he was pretty sure this was going to make math class on Monday a lot more awkward.


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel woke with his blankets twisted and tangled around his whole body and his face pressed into his pillow. His head felt foggy and the rest of him felt like he'd hardly slept at all. He wasn't sure what had woke him up – maybe someone had knocked on the door – but he felt a moment of frustration at whoever it was for pulling him back from his dream. That is, until he remembered that it wasn't a dream. The memory replayed in his mind and he smiled into his pillow.

He almost drifted back off to sleep thinking of Dean's warm hands, shaking slightly as they moved over his body, and the way his lips had pressed into Castiel's skin so gently like he was a treasure, and then harder. He shivered remembering Dean's hot breath against his throat, his whispering voice in the dark against Castiel's ear, the way he held on to him so tight after …

He woke fully when the sudden sound of a door slamming shut brought him back to the present and he remembered the not so pleasant parts of the night. He glanced bleary-eyed at the clock by the bed to see that it was almost noon and he'd overslept. He forced himself out of bed at the sound of a car engine starting up outside his window, and he already knew what he'd see when he got up and peeked out thought the gap in the curtains.

What little was left of the elation he'd felt moments ago melted away completely as he watched the impala pull away and drive down the street with a tight feeling in his chest, and he continued watching the corner of the street long after the car had disappeared around it. Eventually he pulled himself together and left the window to go to the bathroom. It wasn't like staring down the empty street was going to make Dean suddenly turn around and come back or decide to explain himself, and Castiel was so confused by Dean's behaviour that he wasn't even sure he'd want him to come back.

After he emptied his bladder he turned on the shower and brushed his teeth while the small bathroom slowly filled with steam as the water began to heat up. Looking in the mirror after wiping away the condensation he spotted the various marks that Dean had left on him; the small yellowing bruise on his shoulder from where Dean had pushed him into his locker door, and the slightly pink fingerprints that still stood out so faintly against his skin – though he wondered if he was just imagining them because he could still remember the feeling of Dean's hands on him where Dean had gripped his shoulders just a little too tight – and the small hickey on his collar. He thought they should all be gone by Monday, but if not then at least they would all be easily covered with a t-shirt.

The water was too hot when he stepped into the shower, but he didn't bother to turn it down, hoping instead that he could burn away the sickening anxiety he was starting to feel about having to see Dean again at school after the weekend. He really didn't know what to expect, but he wasn't thinking optimistically.

He got dressed, making sure the neckline of his shirt covered the mark on his collar, and braced himself to go down the stairs and see what the damage was, but he was surprised when he got down there to see that the house was relatively tidy. Nothing was broken, the pizza box was gone, and the empty beer bottles had been put into the recycling rather than left littering the living room floor where he usually found them. Instead of glass bottles, Castiel found Gabriel – deeply asleep sitting on the floor with his back against the sofa and his head lolling on his own shoulder.

"Gabriel, wake up!" he shook his brother by the shoulders roughly. Gabriel jumped and looked around at Castiel like he'd never seen him before. "Go to bed."

Gabriel muttered something unintelligible but allowed Castiel to drag him to his feet and push him toward the stairs. He heard Gabriel's grumbling voice continue all the way to his room until his door was shut and the groan of the bed springs told him that Gabriel had managed to throw himself down on his bed.

A loud growl from his stomach reminded him that there was no food in the house and he decided that it was time to take some of the emergency cash to buy some food. Gabriel would be grouchy if he woke up and realised there was nothing in for breakfast. Castiel thought it would serve him right for blowing all the grocery money on alcohol, but making his point wouldn't be worth having to go hungry or live with a hungry and hungover Gabriel.

He took the bus into town and spent the entire journey with his forehead pressed against the cold window, trying to think about anything other than Dean or what had happened, but of course that only made it impossible to think of anything else. What he wanted more than anything right now was to know _why_. Dean had shown clearly plenty of times before that his interest was with girls. His brain helpfully supplied him with a few options, but none of them made him feel any better.

He remembered everything Dean had said to him – he was unlikely to ever forget it – but he wasn't about to accept alcohol fuelled words as truths. When Dean had realised Castiel's feelings for him he wasn't sure, but he supposed he hadn't exactly been trying his hardest to hide it for some time. Maybe it had been pity that had brought Dean into his room, drunk and wanting to 'make up' for his behaviour. Castiel shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not wanting to believe Dean would do that for those reasons.

But it was usual, wasn't it, for straight men to experiment out of curiosity? Castiel thought it was probably more commonplace than people expected, and it seemed a more believable explanation to him than anything else right now. He supposed, if that was the case, that he'd seem to Dean like the best option, being someone who didn't need much persuading and wasn't likely to tell anyone about it. He was an obvious, easy choice. He knew he had no proof and maybe he was jumping to conclusions, speculation from someone who didn't really understand people or their motives in general, but he couldn't shake the conviction in his mind that this was all that it was and had to take a few deep breaths to keep from getting angry. The last explanation available to him was just too much to believe after the way Dean had reacted now that Castiel was awake and able to view it with a clearer mind.

He took his time wandering through the supermarket, picking up only the things that he needed, and didn't hurry to get back. He passed a group of young teens on his way home and spotted a familiar face among them. Sam waved cheerily at him, but when he tried to return the smile he knew it probably came out more like a grimace, though thankfully Sam didn't seem to notice this. Sam was a good kid, but Castiel just didn't understand why the boy seemed to like him so much. Still, he made an effort to be friendly when he could.

Nothing confused Castiel like other people did, and none so much as Dean.

He arrived home to find Gabriel pouring sugar into his coffee straight from the bag, not bothering to measure it out. He felt his face twist in disgust at it as he began putting away the few items he'd bought.

"Won't it taste very unpleasant with that amount of sugar?" He asked, nodding to the especially creamy looking mug of coffee.

"I need caffeine and I need it sweet," Gabriel muttered, rubbing his eyes as he sat down at the kitchen table with his coffee. "Tell me you brought food."

"I did," he said stiffly. "I wouldn't need to if you hadn't spent our grocery money on beer."

"Unless you've got something seriously good in that bag I'm going to come over there and kick your ass."

Judging by the way Gabriel was clutching at his temples he wouldn't have been able to beat a child in a fight, but Castiel let the matter drop anyway. It wasn't like Gabriel could go back in time and change it, so there was no point letting it turn into an argument. Besides, he figured Gabriel's hangover was punishment enough. He dropped two slices of bread into the toaster for himself and threw the unopened bacon at Gabriel, who barely managed to catch it before it hit his coffee. He glared at Castiel and opened his mouth to say something, but then stopped when Castiel shrugged and muttered, "Well you caught it."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed and for a moment Castiel was expecting the packet of bacon to come flying back at him. Instead Gabriel smirked and pointed at Castiel asking, "What's that on your neck?"

Castiel's hand flew to his throat and he turned away from his brother quickly, pulling the neckline of his shirt back up to cover the mark. The toaster popped and he made himself busy with spreading the butter over it.

"Nothing," he said quickly, but he heard Gabriel getting up from his chair and stepping closer. His stomach twisted into a knot and suddenly he didn't feel so hungry.

"Let me see," Gabriel laughed, trying to pull down the fabric to get another look. Castiel pushed his hand away but not before Gabriel got another small glimpse at it. "Is that a hickey? Who gave you that? Where've you been this morning?"

"No one. Nowhere," Castiel snapped, feeling his face burn. "I just bought food."

"Oh come on, you didn't do that to yourself."

"Just leave me alone," he growled, pushing Gabriel away.

"Just tell me who it was and I'll leave you alone," he chuckled.

"It wasn't – I don't …" Castiel struggled to get any words out. "It was a girl. You don't know her."

"Mmhm," Gabriel muttered, smiling. He snatched a slice of toast from Castiel and took a large bite out of it before he walked away back to his coffee. "Okay."

Castiel left his other slice of toast half buttered on his plate and went quickly up the stairs to his room. The first thing he noticed when he got there was Dean's shirt lying on the floor by his bed and he grabbed it and hastily threw it into the spare room. When he got back to his own bedroom he shut the door and threw himself facedown onto his bed, praying that it would just swallow him up and he'd never have to move again.

He took in a long, shaky breath and tried to calm himself down. It wasn't like Gabriel knew anything about it, so no reason to panic. Whatever Dean's reason were, he was fairly sure they weren't simply to make Castiel's life at home any more awkward than it already had been. Castiel wasn't even sure how he felt about the whole thing in that moment – it was all just one big confused mess in his head.

The rest of the weekend passed uneventfully enough. Castiel got up early on Sunday morning to take a long run to clear his head while Gabriel slept in. He enjoyed the rush of adrenaline, the burn of his muscles as he pushed himself to keep going for as long as he could, and feeling the biting wind cooling his hot skin when he stopped to take a short breather and a drink of water. He wished he had time to run every morning like he did during the summer, but with school and homework he just didn't have the time.

By the time he returned home and took a warm shower to scrub away the sweat clinging to his skin, he felt refreshed and his head felt considerably better, his uncertainty about Dean temporarily pushed to the back of his mind.

They didn't hear anything from their father, but that wasn't exactly a big surprise. The rest of their family (or 'the religious nuts' as Gabriel liked to call them) tried again to convince them to accept an invite to their Christmas celebrations, but as usual they politely declined. Spending Christmas with their family would be nice, if only the rest of the family would stop fighting and trying to force their way of living on them. The celebrations usually involved a lot of praying, preaching, petty squabbling, and not a whole lot else. Their father would tell them that they were missing the point of Christmas and that if they wanted to spend the day as a family, celebrating the fact that they have each other in their lives, then he would be more than happy to, but they would tell him that he was dishonouring God by thinking Christmas was anything other than a day to worship Him.

Castiel still didn't understand people, even his own family.

Sunday lunch consisted of cheese burgers and fries from Burger King and, in Gabriel's case, fourth helpings of a store bought chocolate cream cake washed down by far more sugary soda than was possibly healthy. It wasn't exactly a perfect family meal, and they missed having their father at home, but it sure beat the stiff and sometimes even hostile atmosphere they would have experienced if they'd had Sunday dinner with the rest of their relatives like they used to.

By Sunday evening Gabriel was complaining loudly that the whole day was going too slowly, while Castiel panicked, feeling that it was going by too fast. The tranquil mood he'd found himself in after his run had taken barely any time at all to switch back to jittery nerves.

Castiel was quiet – well, quieter than usual – and Gabriel asked him only once why he was behaving unusually, to which Castiel responded by yelling at his brother that sometimes he just liked to be quiet and then proceeded to stomp up to his room knowing that he was acting like a surly child, but unable to bring himself to apologise for it because that would call for some sort of explanation.

He did like to be quite much of the time, but the atmosphere in the house had become tense and uncomfortable between them over the weekend. He wished he could confide in his brother but just exactly what was he supposed to say to him? "Your jerk of a best friend came into my bedroom drunk the other night, we got naked and did stuff on my bed and then he ran away. Oh and by the way, I'm gay," just didn't feel like a suitable way to break it to him and he was fairly certain that that would be all he'd be capable of blurting out if he did try.

Gabriel didn't mention the strange behaviour or the mark on Castiel's neck again, which Castiel was immensely thankful for. At this point he just wished he could forget about it – hide the memory of that whole night somewhere deep in his mind where he could leave it to re-evaluate it at a later time when his own confusion over it had faded and the thought of Dean's abrupt departure without explanation no longer gave him a painfully uncomfortable feeling in his stomach.

Monday morning came far too fast for Castiel's liking, and it didn't take Gabriel long to notice that there was something wrong. He still didn't mention the hickey, which Castiel thought was quite unlike Gabriel who revelled in using any and all ways to tease everyone he could whenever the opportunity arose, especially with his little brother.

Castiel was skittish that morning. When his hands shook so much that he smashed his second mug in as many minutes while trying to make himself a cup of tea to calm his nerves, Gabriel forcefully removed him from the vicinity of the kettle by his shoulders and sat him down at the kitchen table.

"What's up with you this morning?" He asked, doing Castiel an uncharacteristic favour by pouring the tea for him himself. "You got a test today or something?"

"No," Castiel said, making what he thought was a good effort to appear calm and collected. "I'm fine."

"If you say so," Gabriel shot him a disbelieving look as he handed over the steaming mug. "But you better chill out soon before you destroy the rest of the kitchen. Drink up, we're going to be late enough already."

Castiel stared down into the tea and sniffed it cautiously before throwing a distrustful glare at his brother.

"It's just tea," Gabriel insisted.

"It's hardly an unfair assumption to think you would have done something to it," Castiel bit out. "You don't do nice things for other people."

"Now that's just upsetting," Gabriel said, putting a hand to his heart in mock hurt. "I can be nice."

"I didn't say you couldn't, I said you don't."

Gabriel frowned at him, but said nothing more on it. He knew already that he had been very short with Gabriel all weekend, and annoying though his brother was, he hadn't caused any of these problems and probably didn't deserve Castiel's unrestrained temper tantrums right now. He was grateful that Gabriel hadn't pushed him to say what was bothering him and felt ashamed of his small but frequent outbursts.

Castiel took a tentative sip of his tea and, on finding out that it really was just tea, muttered his thanks. Gabriel downed his now cool coffee and then, with the few minutes they had left, scribbled a few hurried answers onto his homework before they set out.

"Math first thing on a Monday morning should be illegal," Gabriel complained when they got to school. Castiel's felt as though his stomach was doing an unpleasant sort of dance somewhere up in his chest and he wondered if he was going to throw up. He nodded in agreement, not wanting to open his mouth.

The class was already in when they reached the door and Mr Crowley had his head in his hand, clearly frustrated while he tried in vain to explain a mathematical problem to the class of around thirty people who neither had the capacity to absorb this information so early in the morning at the start of the week nor did they care at all to try. He glanced at the doorway when they arrived and shook his head at Gabriel before he could spit out any excuses for their tardiness.

Dean looked up when they entered and hurriedly looked back down at his work when he caught Castiel's eye and pretended not to notice when he sat in his seat beside him. Castiel was so confused by this point that he wasn't even sure whether he should feel relieved or not. Emotions made things complicated for Castiel – Dean made things complicated. Understanding other people and how they worked would likely always be somewhat of a mystery for Castiel, so instead of struggling to figure that out for now, he concentrated on his work.

Well, at least he tried to concentrate on it. The space on their table felt so much smaller than usual, and if Dean's small glances and uncomfortable shifting in his seat were anything to go by then Castiel would guess that Dean felt as awkward as he did. Castiel had felt angry and offended by the whole ordeal since having time to think it over, but seeing Dean now, his hands shaking a little and nervously biting his lip, made it ease away. He told himself it was because there was really just no point in him staying angry about it.

When the backs their hands accidentally brushed lightly together Castiel jerked his away quickly, not wanting to cause Dean any more distress than he was clearly feeling already, but Dean threw him a dark look anyway. A little of his anger leaked back in and he was really starting to wish he had a switch to turn off the blush that he felt creeping over his face. It wasn't like he'd done it on purpose; his hand had barely moved, but somehow it managed to happen three more times before the class was over and each time he pulled back quickly but still earned a glare for it.

Mr Crowley walked around the class checking work and stopped at Dean's blank page to declare himself unimpressed. Dean pushed away from the table and stormed out of the classroom yelling, "Who fucking cares?"

Mr Crowley didn't call after him or react at all other than to sit at his desk with a rather irked expression and write a note down on a piece of paper. When the bell rang to signal the end of class, he gave the note to another student and told her to take it down to the principal's office. Castiel turned to see Gabriel looking curious but not all that surprised.

The rest of the morning passed quietly. Castiel had no more classes that day with either Dean or his brother, but he did have to sit through an entire English class before lunch in which Ms Rosen and Anna, Castiel's cousin, argued furiously over whether or not David and Jonathan in the bible were gay or just very close platonic friends. Castiel didn't really see why either of them cared so much. He and the majority of the class ended up with their heads on their desks, praying for the bell to just ring already so they could get away from the whole dispute.

When he went to the cafeteria for lunch, Castiel was prepared to sit and eat alone, but he heard Gabriel calling his name from where he and Dean sat and decided not to let Dean's glowering frighten him off. It wasn't like Castiel had dragged him into his room that night so he didn't see how Dean could blame him for it. His cheeks grew warm when he thought about it, so he tried to push it out of his mind and avoided eye contact with Dean – not that it mattered when Dean was doing his utmost to look anywhere but at Castiel anyway.

As he sat down opposite Gabriel and Dean, Gabriel turned to continue the conversation they'd been having before Castiel had turned up, but he'd barely gotten the first word past his lips before Dean pushed his barely touched plate of food away and got up to leave, growling "Fuck, Gabriel, I really don't care, okay."

"Jeez," Gabriel muttered, watching Dean stomping away. "What got up his ass?"

Castiel shrugged his shoulders and concentrated very hard on his fries.

"He didn't want to come in today," Sam said, sliding into Dean's vacated seat next to Gabriel. "He was planning on skipping school."

"What stopped him?" Gabriel asked.

"I told him if he didn't go to his classes then I wouldn't either," Sam stated simply.

Gabriel turned in his chair to grin proudly at Sam. Nothing was more important to Dean than his little brother, and he would certainly want Sam to get good grades more than he'd want to skip school to avoid an awkward situation.

"Why you manipulative little bastard," Gabriel said approvingly.

"It was kind of an empty threat," Sam confessed. "He knew I wouldn't really cut class, but he wouldn't risk it."

Tuesday was very much the same; Dean avoided talking to or looking at Castiel as much as possible or avoided being around him at all if he could. Castiel wasn't sure whether he found this an improvement or if he missed the Dean he was more familiar with, which only made him feel even more confused about the situation.

Luckily they didn't have math class that day and the only other class they did have together they spent at opposite ends of the room. Chemistry was something Dean seemed to enjoy, and he was good at it, but so often he would decide to simply make things blow up.

The rain was heavy that evening when school finished, and Castiel was soaked before he had even managed to get half way home. A car pulled up beside him, but he hurried on past it with his head down, fighting against the wind and downpour. A moment later the same car pulled up and the driver pressed the horn, making Castiel jump so that his foot landed in a puddle, soaking him almost up to the knee. He looked car window and saw Dean, but he wasn't even looking at him, so Castiel carried on walking. Another ten minutes in the rain was much more preferable to getting in a car with a bad tempered Dean.

The third time the car pulled up beside him Dean stepped out into the rain with a frustrated scowl on his face and walked around the front of the car to open the passenger door.

"Would you just get in?" He barked. "You're going to get pneumonia or something so would you just … just get in the car. Please."

Castiel stopped and considered for a moment, but eventually he sighed and stepped into the car, shivering despite the hot air from the heater blowing directly toward him. Dean quickly got back into the driver's seat and handed Castiel a towel from the back.

"Thank you," he muttered, taking the towel and doing his best not to drip all over the seat. Dean didn't reply, and he didn't look at Castiel again while he was driving. Castiel watched the rain beating against the window to avoid having to look at the almost hostile expression on Dean's face, but he soon became uneasy.

"I doubt I would have gotten pneumonia," Castiel said, mostly just for something to say to break up the quiet.

Dean didn't reply and Castiel didn't try to strike up conversation again. Dean didn't seem to be in a talkative mood, or at least that's what Castiel thought until he realised that he looked like he was waiting to say something else. Several times Dean took in a deep breath and opened his mouth as though he was going to say something, but changed his mind each time and kept whatever was on his mind to himself. They continued in a stony silence that was broken up by nothing but the patter of raindrops against the windows and the occasional quiet squeak of the windshield wipers for what couldn't have been more than a few minutes, but it felt like it stretched out to an hour.

When they pulled up in front of Castiel's house, he paused to see if Dean wanted to say anything, but Dean just frowned at the steering wheel.

"Thank you," he said again, receiving nothing but a curt nod in response.

When he was sure that Dean wasn't going to say anything, he climbed out of the car and wasted no time watching it leave before running into the house to get out of the rain. All that he wanted to do right now was to wash away the chill in a hot shower and forget about how confused Dean made him lately. He almost missed the teasing and the jokes.

On Wednesday morning Dean was called into the principal's office and after he came back out he spent the rest of the day in a raging mood over it. The bright side was that he seemed to have forgotten a little of his discomfort with Castiel.

"No one ever said I was the smart one," he complained at lunch, glaring viciously at his his pizza in front of him like it had personally wronged him. Castiel assumed that his rant had something to do with whatever had been said in the principal's office. "Sam's the smart one. No one expects me to do well, that's why Dad already set me up with a job at Bobby's when I leave school. So what's the problem? I could just drop out now and it wouldn't make any difference."

"Are they keeping you back?" Gabriel asked.

"No," he replied, sulking back in his seat. "They said I'm close though. I got a warning. Doesn't matter though, everyone knows I'm stupid and I'm going to fail anyway."

"You shouldn't let people tell you that you're stupid," Castiel sighed, exasperated. "The only reason you're doing so badly is because you're letting yourself believe you're not smart enough."

"Hey, I'm trying here but –"

"Either do it or don't do it, but don't say you're 'trying' when you're not."

"Okay," Dean said with a strained smile and his voice loaded with sarcasm. "Thank you, Yoda, for that inspiring pep talk. Really great, it was."

"I don't understand that reference," Castiel exhaled heavily.

The sarcasm dropped from Dean's face almost immediately and he rounded on Gabriel in disbelief as Sam joined them at their table.

"He's never seen Star Wars? Really?"

"Dean," Sam laughed, "not everyone likes the same things you do."

"Oh come on," he scoffed. "Everyone's seen Star Wars. Cas, you really need a decent education in movies."

Gabriel perked up and exchanged a quick grin with Sam.

"Weren't you saying there was a movie you wanted to see coming out on Friday?" Sam asked. "We should all go see it."

"Uh … all of us?" Dean asked, his eyes flicking around the table.

"Yeah Sam," Gabriel asked, looking a little confused, "all of us?"

There was a muffled _thump_ and Gabriel jumped slightly before his face quickly brightened with a smile.

"Oh yeah," he agreed quickly. "We should all go. All four of us," He added staring at Castiel.

"Please Dean," Sam begged, putting on his best puppy eyes. "Can we go?"

"God," Dean twisted his face at them, "you guys are such girls. Besides, I don't think nerd boy here is going to want to see it."

"I want to go," Castiel spoke up quickly before they could exclude him. No one ever invited him to go out anywhere with them.

"Okay," Dean said, his lips picking up at the corners in an almost smile. "Fine, but I pick the movie."

"I think we already know which one you're going to choose," Gabriel laughed. "You haven't stopped talking about it for weeks."

"Shut up," Dean muttered, though not with any venom.

Castiel had no idea what movie they were talking about, but he didn't really care. It was just good to be included for once. He was also pleased to see that Dean no longer seemed to find the idea of being around him as repulsive as he had for the past few days. Letting things get back to normal sounded much better than how things had been lately, he'd take the light teasing and occasional snarky comments over the bad tempered Dean who had spared him nothing more than angry glances as though he'd done something to offend him if it meant a less unfriendly atmosphere.

Math class on Thursday was a vast improvement. Dean said a quiet "hello" as he slid into his chair next to Castiel. They got on with their work without another word to each other.

"NOVAK!" Mr Crowley's voice thundered through the class and Castiel jumped so hard that he hit his knee on the table and almost fell backward out of his chair. Gabriel, who'd been sleeping with his head in his arms on the desk, _did_ fall out of his chair. Giggling ran through the class as they watched Gabriel picked himself up off the floor without a hint of embarrassment on his face, only tired amusement. He took a bow and then got back into his seat.

Castiel turned back around in his chair and looked up at Dean, who was smiling but not at Gabriel. Dean was laughing at him, but Castiel didn't feel like he was being mocked, and it was kind of just a little bit too beautiful and open not to make him feel like the day just got a little brighter. Castiel's breath caught for a moment and he grinned back, ignoring the warmth spreading up his neck.

"Alright," Mr Crowley growled at the still tittering class, "fun's over. Get back to work."

When Friday came Castiel found Gabriel and Dean standing by Dean's locker. Dean looked frustrated again.

"Man, Sammy already said he couldn't come," he whined. Castiel assumed this was about the movie they'd all planned on seeing later that day. "I'm not going on my own like a loser with no friends."

"Well," Gabriel grinned, "Castiel still wants to go, don't you?"

"Gabe," Dean huffed out a humourless laugh, "no."

"You got a problem being alone with my brother?" Gabriel asked, his tone a little too innocent to be innocent, if Castiel knew him at all.

"No," Dean replied, a little too quickly. He shot Castiel a nervous look, but Castiel wasn't sure exactly what he was expected to say here. "But what's so important that it can't wait until the weekend, huh?"

"Never you mind, Winchester," Gabriel said, waving a hand dismissively. "That's none of your business."

"Well, we can just go another time," Dean insisted, looking a little flustered. He glanced at Castiel and licked his lips nervously. "Cas doesn't want to go with me."

"Thank you, Dean," Castiel said, keeping his voice as neutral as possible, "for assuming that I can't speak for myself."

Gabriel rolled his eyes and thumped his head gently against the nearest locker door, muttering to himself about idiots. Dean, to Castiel's great pleasure, at least had the decency to look a little ashamed, but didn't attempt to apologise. What did Castiel care if Dean didn't want him there? It was only a movie he hadn't wanted to see in the first place. It's not like he'd been looking forward to it; he didn't even know what movie it was.

He walked away to go to math class early, not wanting to stick around to hear whatever else Dean had to say about it. He was tired of people making decisions for him – it had been one of the primary reasons he and Gabriel had fallen out with the majority of their family and he wasn't about to let Dean Winchester start doing it, regardless of how small the decision was. He told himself firmly that this was the reason it had upset him.

By the time he'd reached the class room and sat at his desk though, he was wondering if maybe he was over reacting just a little. Dean, after all, was only trying to avoid an awkward situation for both of them. Castiel could take almost any amount of childish teasing, but having his own mind and decisions dictated to him was something of a sore spot to him and, if he had to, he supposed he could admit to himself that, yeah okay, maybe he had been looking forward to it just a little.

When the rest of the class turned up Gabriel walked past without a word, but Castiel didn't know why he looked so irritated. When Dean sat in his chair next to him with his cheeks flaming red, Castiel figured they had probably been arguing about something, but he didn't ask about it.

"Do you want to?" Dean asked, keeping his voice low and staring at his textbook as he flicked through it to find the page he needed. "Want to go, I mean."

"Dean," Castiel sighed, "I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

"Cas," he groaned, still not looking up from his book, "I'm asking you. Do you want to go see a movie? Like … with me?"

Castiel considered this for a moment and hoped it wasn't just a result of Gabriel doing the 'big brother thing' he sometimes – very occasionally – felt compelled to do. He didn't need sympathy friends and he certainly didn't need Gabriel to force them onto him. On the other hand, if Dean was sincere then maybe they could get past all the awkwardness that had hovered over them lately, and it would be nice to be able to call him a real friend. He didn't hold out much hope for it to be anything else.

"Did Gabriel push you into asking me that?" He asked, watching Dean's reaction carefully.

"What?" Dean looked up at him, surprised. "No. Why would he – No, he didn't … I mean he said I was being an asshole but that's nothing new."

"You are an asshole at times," he conceded.

"Is that a no?" Dean asked gingerly. Castiel almost said no, just for the sake of proving a point, but it was the hopeful look on Dean's face that swayed his decision in the end.

"Tell me what time and I'll meet you there," he said after a long pause.

"Okay, awesome," Dean bit his lip and smiled down at his math work for a moment before he flashed his usual cocky grin at Castiel, "but how 'bout I pick you up instead?"

Castiel rushed home that afternoon to change, although he had plenty of time. By the time Gabriel came home he'd already been showered and attempted to try on almost every item of clothing he owned. He didn't want to look like he was trying too hard to impress anyone by dressing up, but he didn't want to look like he didn't care to try at all either. He felt ridiculous and told himself he was acting like a nervous kid on a first date.

Several things flitted through his mind at once after that. The first was to remind himself that this wasn't even a date – Dean went to the movies with Gabriel or with Sam often enough and that didn't mean anything, although that didn't ease the twisting feeling in his gut at all. The second was that he'd never actually been on a date before, not counting the time in eleventh grade when Gabriel had tried to set him up on a date with Meg Masters without either of them realising what he was doing and he had almost succeeded until Castiel realised what was happening and told his brother firmly that he had no interest in her at all. Gabriel had ended up having to take that date himself, much to the amusement of Dean, who told him it had been a bad idea to try to set her up with Castiel anyway.

The third thought he had was that there was a possibility that he would very much like to go on a date with Dean, but that something like that would never happen. This only intensified the warm knot inside of him.

"Ooh don't you look nice," Gabriel teased from the bedroom doorway. Castiel jumped and slammed his closet door shut to hide the mess of clothes that had been thrown down in a pile at the bottom. "Going out somewhere?"

"Yes," he said, settling on the jeans and grey shirt that he was wearing.

"With Dean?"

Castiel glanced at Gabriel but looked away quickly without answering. He would have loved to know how Gabriel found social things like this so easy. He doubted his brother had ever spent hours in front of a mirror just to hang out with a friend, but then Gabriel was used to having friends; Castiel wasn't. Plus he felt it was almost certainly safe to assume that Gabriel wasn't harbouring any mostly-secret gay crushes on his friends.

"Okay," Gabriel smirked. "Good. Have fun. Enjoy the movie too."

Before Castiel even had time to ask Gabriel what else he was supposed to be enjoying, they heard to front door opening.

"Hey, Cas?"

Castiel's stomach jumped when he heard Dean's voice calling up the stairs for him. He stood rooted to the spot and trying to remember how to speak or move until Gabriel clicked his fingers in front of his face, snapping him out of it.

"Calm down would you," he chuckled. "You're making me feel nervous just looking at you."

"Sorry," he muttered, hurrying past. The tense knot inside tightened when he reached the bottom of the stairs and saw that Dean was gone from the open doorway, but he shook himself and realised that he was probably just waiting in the car. He tried to calm down, telling himself that all this anxiety was getting unreasonably absurd, and that the only reason for his concern was how unaccustomed he was to having a friend to 'hang out' with and how unpredictable Dean was to him right now.

With that in mind he managed to calm himself down enough to walk out to the impala parked on the side of the road and climb in. It was already dark and the air was chilly, but not so much that Castiel felt compelled to go back for the coat that he'd forgotten. He slid into the car and sighed when he felt the warm air from the heater wash over him.

Neither of them spoke as the car pulled away, but as soon as Dean flashed him a grin and turned on the radio to a classic rock station Castiel's panic seemed to fall away and he realised that the majority of his worry had been in thinking the entire night would be spent feeling awkward and out of place, but sitting there now next to Dean – a Dean who appeared to be in a considerably better mood than the past week – was comfortable and kind of relaxing compared to the time he'd been waiting. Even the music was growing on him.

Inept as he was in most social situations, Castiel was aware that mentioning anything about the previous Friday would kill the peaceful atmosphere and so any interest he'd had in pursuing conversation or asking questions regarding that night was pushed away. He'd let Dean bring that up when he was ready to, or if he ever wanted to. His panic about his own sexuality had long since disappeared, and he was still angry that he'd been made to feel so used, but if Dean was as confused about his as Castiel thought he was then he could let the issue lie. Castiel knew he was a little too forgiving with Dean sometimes, but was in the past and it couldn't be changed now, and it wasn't going to happen again.

"Don't we need to pay for admission?" Castiel asked as they entered the cinema and Dean walked straight past the queue where people were lining up to buy their tickets.

"Nah," Dean held out two tickets to show Castiel that he'd already bought them.

"You shouldn't have done that," he snapped, turning his face away from Dean to hide his embarrassment. "My brother and I might not have a lot of money, but I don't need charity. I could have bought my own."

"Shit, Cas, calm down," Dean huffed out a small laugh. "I know the feeling okay; in case you haven't noticed I'm not exactly up to my eyes in cash either, but this isn't charity. I asked you so I bought the tickets. No need to be so touchy about it. If you feel so bad then go buy us some popcorn and drinks and we'll be even. Or you can pay me in next time."

He wondered if Gabriel and Dean often paid for each other. Maybe it was normal, but Castiel had never really had any friends to do anything like seeing movies together with before. The few times he had been had been with his father, but that sort of thing didn't happen lately.

"Next time?"

"Uh," Dean mumbled, looking down at his shoes. "Well, you know, if you want there to be a next time."

Castiel didn't reply. Before he could figure out what he was supposed to say Dean walked away, muttering something about calling home to make sure his brother was okay.

They sat at the back of the room and Dean fidgeted in his seat a little while they waited. He seemed to relax a lot more once the lights went down and they could barely see anything but the large screen in front of them. When it started Dean warned him not to talk through the movie, but then he would lean over and whisper short explanations to Castiel whenever something happened that excited him. He explained about the movie's alternate timelines and different alien cultures and by the time the movie was about half way through Castiel was certain he knew more about the background history than what was actually going on in the movie. He didn't tell him to stop though, when he had Dean's lips up against his ears once again, whispering excitedly. Dean's breath blew gently over Castiel's neck and cheek when he spoke and Castiel could smell the sweetness of the popcorn Dean was eating. Dean had relaxed enough that he hadn't seemed to notice their knees pressed together. Of course, Castiel had noticed, but he didn't move away.

Someone turned and hissed at Dean to be quiet, and Castiel couldn't suppress and soft chuckle at Dean's startled expression.

"I thought I was supposed to be the nerd?" He asked, leaning in close so he wouldn't be heard and inhaling the scent of Dean's shower gel as he did. Dean narrowed his eyes at Castiel, but refused to comment on that, and it wasn't long before he went back to his whispered explanations.

As they stepped back into the cold air outside after the movie, Dean was more relaxed than Castiel thought he had ever seen him. They walked slowly, gentle pressure on their shoulders where they pressed together for warmth, down the road to where Dean had parked his car.

"You like the movie?" Dean asked, chewing on a piece of liquorice.

"I'm surprised, but yes I did," Castiel said. "I might even watch it without the commentary some time."

"Sorry," Dean mumbled, but he smiled when he saw that Castiel was laughing. The smile dropped off his face and he took a quick step away from Castiel's side the instant he looked ahead. Castiel saw Alastair, another student in their year who'd been kept behind from last. The rumour was that he'd been in a juvenile detention centre for the majority of his last year for viciously beating up a kid in his class, but Castiel had no idea if it was true or not. He was popular enough among the rest of the senior class, though Castiel suspected that it was more fear than likeability that made him so popular.

"Hello, Dean," he said, leering over them.

"Hey," Dean muttered, standing a little stiffer than he had been. "How's it going?"

"Isn't that Novak's little brother?" He asked, ignoring Dean's question and inclining his head towards Castiel, but not looking at him, as though he was below worthy of being addressed directly. Castiel patiently kept quiet, deciding instantly that Alastair wasn't worth Castiel caring enough about his opinion to get angry about it.

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "Gabriel's brother."

"Out for a walk together?" Alastair sneered. His eyes flicked over to the building behind them and back to Dean again. "Oh, you've been to see a movie together. How sweet."

"Yeah, well," Dean shrugged, looking sideways at the cinema to avoid Alastair's eyes. "Little nerd knows nothing about good movies and he doesn't have any friends of his own to go with."

Castiel felt his fists curl tight but kept his face as blank as he could. He slowly sucked in a deep breath and felt the world tilt slightly as his anger rapidly skyrocketed. He wanted to leave and go home but he refused to move until Alastair left, not wanting to seem like he was running away.

"I can't believe you're out in public with this little freak," Alastair laughed coldly, throwing one short derisive glance down his nose at Castiel.

Dean's smile looked very strained and his nervous chuckle died as quickly as it started. He gave Castiel what he probably thought was a playful punch in the arm, but hit a lot harder than he needed to. Alastair laughed again, though Castiel didn't flinch.

"Just a favour to Gabe," Dean said quickly, shaking his head.

Castiel's jaw clenched tight and he felt the blood heating in his face. Well at least now he knew. He saw Alastair's mouth moving, but couldn't hear what he assumed was probably more insults over the sound of his own pulse pounding in his ears. Alastair began to walk away, but they didn't move until he had gone out of sight around the corner. Dean let out a heavy breath of relief.

"What a dick," he grunted, but Castiel was already walking away. "Hey, hold up. What's the hurry?"

"I'm taking the bus," Castiel told him, not slowing down in the slightest.

"Cas, wait," Dean grabbed Castiel's arm tight and held him so he couldn't walk away. Castiel glared at him, but didn't struggle. "If this is because I hit you I'm sorry. I shouldn't – I didn't mean to do it like that, honestly. I wasn't thinking. Alastair was … I mean he … I just didn't expect to see anyone tonight and I guess I freaked out a bit. I was … I didn't want anyone to think …"

"Didn't want anyone to think what, Dean?"

Dean opened his mouth and closed it again, then repeated the action a few times before he swallowed hard and gave up. Castiel could have laughed if he wasn't so mad; of course Dean wouldn't want anyone to think they were friends. Dean wasn't exactly in the popular crowd, but he wouldn't want anyone to get the idea that he was spending his spare time hanging around with the class weirdo – especially not when he was only even there in the first place as a favour to Gabriel.

"Let go of my arm, Dean," he said, keeping his voice low and calm, "before I break yours."

Dean balked at that and hastily pulled back his hand. Castiel only waited long enough to take in the look of alarm and humiliation on Dean's face before he quickly walked away. He was cold without his coat, and ended up missing the bus and having to walk to another stop, but he was so angry that he barely even felt the biting air. His eyes stung because of the wind and his own frustration and fury, though he didn't cry. Honestly, he wasn't even all that surprised, just so very disappointed for so many reasons.

"Hey," Gabriel called in greeting when he heard the front door opening. He stepped out of the living room to see Castiel running up the stairs to his bedroom. "How'd it – Castiel? What's wrong?"

"Leave me alone," he growled out, not trusting himself to speak more than that just yet. Gabriel followed him up the stairs, but he didn't slow down and he didn't want to talk to Gabriel about it. He didn't want to talk to anyone at all.

"What did that asshole do now?" He asked, trying to push his way past the door to get into the room. He pushed hard at the door, stopping it from closing, so Castiel stepped aside, but only for long enough for Gabriel to get through the doorway and take a step towards him before Castiel raised a fist and punched him in the face. Gabriel stumbled back, but didn't fall. He probably could have overpowered Castiel in seconds if he wanted to, but instead he just stood there holding his face and asked, "And exactly what the fuck did I do?"

Castiel reached forward with both hands on Gabriel's chest and shoved him hard from the bedroom. Gabriel stared at him, seeming more shocked than angry at getting hit in the face. Castiel slammed the door shut, locked it, and then dropped down fully clothed onto his bed, burying his face into his pillow. He could hear Gabriel's angry muttering on the other side of the door and then heavy footsteps moving away. He shouldn't have punched Gabriel, he was sure his brother would make him regret it sometime soon, but he didn't really care much about that for now. He just wanted to go to sleep and block everything out.

He turned over onto his back and pulled the pillow over his face, deciding that he wouldn't be leaving his bedroom at all for the rest of the weekend if that's what it took to avoid having to see his brother until school on Monday.

Castiel really hated Fridays, and he was pretty sure they hated him right back.


	3. Chapter 3

Gabriel obviously wasn't willing to let Castiel go through with his plan to hide in his bedroom all weekend. He woke his little brother the next morning by banging his fist on the bedroom door so hard that it rattled and the wood threatened to split.

"You know you can't stay in there forever," he yelled. "You're going to have to come out at some point. Don't think I won't break down the door."

"I'm asleep," Castiel groaned. He was cold and uncomfortable, having fallen asleep on top of the covers in his jeans, but he didn't want to get up yet and face Gabriel after last night. However, Gabriel wasn't taking no for an answer and pounded against the door again.

After listening to a long minute of consistent hammering against his door, Castiel realised that his brother really wasn't going to give up this fight. He sighed and picked himself up from the bed to make his way slowly to the door, mentally preparing himself to duck should Gabriel be planning retaliation for Castiel striking him in the face.

He unlocked the door and pulled it open, but the expected blow never came. Gabriel stood there, rigid with impatience, eyebrows raised as he continued to stare silently and expectantly at Castiel. A purple bruise had spread over one side of Gabriel's nose and Castiel felt a small twist of guilt stirring inside of him.

"I'm sorry," he said, a little stiffly.

"Oh, you're sorry," Gabriel snorted. "So, come on then. Out with it. What happened last night?"

"I don't want to discuss it," Castiel muttered, hoping that he could somehow avoid the subject of the previous night with Dean altogether.

"You hit me," Gabriel reminded him, as though he could forget when he was staring at the evidence of it. "You punched me in the face, so explain to me why I shouldn't be beating the shit out of you right now."

"I said I was sorry."

"Not good enough. If I'm walking around with this mess on my face, then I at least deserve to know why."

Castiel's irritation deflated when Gabriel pointed out the bruise across his face again. He knew his brother's intentions had been well-meant, not deliberately designed to hurt him. He gave in, pressing his lips together for a moment before explaining himself, as though he could hold back anything that would give away just how much it had hurt him.

"He only asked because you told him to pretend to be my friend," he said. He wasn't sure why, but he had decided against telling Gabriel exactly how Dean had said it. "You shouldn't have done that. I don't want a friend who's only there because you force them to be."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Gabriel demanded. Castiel stared at his brother and wasn't sure what else to say. "I tell him he's an idiot and an asshole and to stop being a dick, but I don't force him to do anything. This is why I got a face full of fist?"

"You didn't? Then why would he ask me to go?"

"You know," Gabriel rubbed his temples and groaned in frustration, "for a semi-genius you can be pretty oblivious sometimes. I don't even know which one of you I want to kick the crap out of the most right now."

"But he told Alastair –"

"Alastair?" Gabriel's head snapped back up to look at Castiel. "What was he doing there? Actually, no, don't tell me. I don't even want to know what he gets up to lately. Just stay away from him."

"I don't know what he was doing there," he said. "He saw us on the way out. I didn't really have much option to stay away from him. Why? What did he do?"

"Well, for the most part lately your guess is probably as good as mine," Gabriel frowned, "but nothing good, that's for sure. He was … well he and Dean were kind of friends for a while a few years back. Except Alastair isn't someone whose radar you want to be on whether it's his good side or his bad side."

"What happened?"

"That doesn't matter now. Just stay away from Alastair," Gabriel told him. Castiel gave his brother a short nod and tried to step past him, but Gabriel blocked the way, holding out his hands to stop him. "Look, okay, so maybe I have been giving him a nudge now and then in that general direction, but mostly I just let him know how much of an ass he was being."

"Well," Castiel murmured, "it's not important anymore."

"Not important? Right," Gabriel looked like he was fighting very hard not to roll his eyes. "Doesn't look like it's important."

"If you're going to hit me then do it," he sighed, needing to get away from this conversation. "Otherwise, get out of my way."

Castiel didn't wait for Gabriel to move before he shoved past, picking up his running shorts as he did. His plan so far was to step outside and start running, but he wasn't sure what he was going to do after that.

Castiel ran and ran; pushing himself to keep going to the point where his muscles burned all over his body and the cold morning air made his lungs ache, to the point where thinking was unnecessary and moving each foot in front of the other was the only thing running through his mind. It felt good to not have to think for a while, just listening to the _slap slap slap_ of his slightly worn sneakers against the damp ground and concentrating on his breathing. By the time he'd circled around and come back home, sweating and shaking slightly, he no longer had the energy to think about anything.

He took a long shower, standing under the steaming spray for what felt like hours, willing himself to believe that he was fine. So he had no friends, but what did he care if no one liked him? He was the weird one, excluded because he refused to try to be the same as everyone else. It's not like he actively tried to be different, he simply was, and so why should it matter to him what Dean Winchester thought of him? Besides, it's not like Dean had that many more friends than he did.

Castiel took his time drying off with his towel and eventually left the sanctuary of the bathroom. He went back to his room where he lay down on his bed once he was dressed and picked up a book, hoping that Gabriel would leave him alone. For only one day he wanted to pretend none of this was happening; to just have some peace.

The peace didn't last very long though when he heard a knock at the door. He ignored it, assuming it was probably someone for Gabriel. After all, he didn't have any friends of his own. There was a muttering voice that was quickly interrupted by a muffled _thump_ and a short cry of pain, but Castiel didn't need any more than that to recognise that it was Dean downstairs.

He lowered the book and glared up at the ceiling when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, knowing that they weren't Gabriel's. He didn't want to see Dean, but at the same time he really wanted to see Dean, and he kind of hated himself a little bit for that. There was a timid tapping on his bedroom door, but Castiel ignored it, hoping that he would go away.

"Hey, Cas?" Dean muttered through the door.

When Castiel didn't answer, Dean took that as his cue to open the door. Castiel ignored him still. He opened the book again and stared at it, reading the same line over and over but not absorbing a word of it.

"Hi," Dean said, awkwardly glancing around and avoiding looking directly at Castiel. "So … I was a dick."

"Yes, you were," Castiel agreed, turning the page of his book even though he hadn't managed to take in a word. He was glad that his voice and hands held steady. "What do you want?"

Dean stayed silent for a long while, and Castiel refused to look at him, until he sucked in a breath and said, "To say sorry, I guess."

"You guess? Why did you say it was a favour to Gabriel?" He asked, his frayed temper getting the better of him. "I hit my brother because of you."

"Yeah," Dean grimaced, glancing behind him at the empty hallway and wincing as he rubbed the back of his head. "I heard. I don't know why I said that."

"Oh, okay," Castiel said coldly, still not looking at Dean.

For a moment Dean seemed like he was going to walk away, but then he stepped into the room instead, shutting the door behind him. He took a few steps forward, but didn't come too near the bed where Castiel lay, still staring blankly at the book in his hands.

"You know I didn't mean it, right?" He said eventually.

Castiel put the book down, giving up the pretence of reading. He set it aside and sat up to look at Dean, taking a moment before he asked, "And what do you want me to say? That you're forgiven? Fine, you're forgiven. You can go home now."

Dean flinched at Castiel's harsh tone and he stood motionless for a moment, looking like he was searching for something to to say, before he gave up and turned to leave.

"Are you afraid of him?" Castiel asked, stopping Dean before he reached the door. Dean gaped at him and Castiel expected him to deny it, but after a moment his face fell and Castiel knew that was all the answer he was going to get to that question. It was all he needed. "Why?"

"I don't want to talk about Alastair," Dean muttered.

"Dean."

"No," he snapped, suddenly very angry. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Right," Castiel bit out, turning back to his book so he wouldn't have to look at Dean any longer. What little patience he'd had when Dean had entered the room had already worn thin. "Okay."

"No," Dean sighed, his voice softening again almost instantly. "I mean – I'm sorry."

Dean took a few steps forward until he was right by the side of the bed. He was really very close now, but Castiel stared up at him, waiting for him to continue. "If you care that much then yeah, I'll tell you. But not right now. Can you wait? I just don't want to think about that dick right now. It wasn't because I didn't want to be there with you, okay?"

"You're not ashamed to be seen with me in public?" Castiel asked, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice. Dean shook his head. He looked like he wanted to say more, but Castiel knew him well enough by now to know that he would rather choke down a bucket of rusty nails than have any kind of in depth conversation about his own feelings, which made it kind of a miracle that he'd come to apologise at all. Castiel felt his anger beginning to drain away.

"You were right though," he said sadly. "I don't have any friends."

"We're your friends," Dean told him, though he suddenly seemed very interested in staring down at the carpet. "Gabe, and Sammy, and me … if you still want me to be?"

And now Castiel was mad all over again; mad because he wasn't done being mad about the whole thing, but now here was Dean, making it difficult and complicated again. Mad because he wanted that clench in his stomach to be fuelled by anger even though he knew it definitely wasn't. He wanted to punch Dean in the face and tell him to forget about it – although it looked as though Gabriel had already taken a swing at him – but a part of him wanted to drop the anger and tell Dean that yes, he wanted to be his friend. This whole thing was way out of Dean's comfort zone, but he was doing it anyway, and Castiel hated himself for noticing it and for almost feeling bad about it.

"I'll think about it," he said, opening the book to any random page. He just wanted Dean to leave, to give him some time, and Dean seemed to get the hint when Castiel proceeded to completely ignore his presence in the room. He turned away and shuffled wordlessly out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

After Dean left, Castiel dropped the book and rubbed his eyes. Dean only wanted to be friends, and eight days ago Castiel would have been able to be happy with that. The thing that made him angrier than anything else was that he was sure Dean had already ruined his ability to be satisfied with 'just friends'. He just needed one damn day without having to try to figure out what was going on in Dean Winchester's head, and he was going to take the rest of the day to do just that.

– –

Castiel was very wary of Gabriel, who seemed to be in good spirits considering everything, and still hadn't so much as lifted a finger to get payback for the swollen bruise over his face. Luckily Gabriel was a remarkably fast healer and the swelling was already mostly gone by Sunday morning and the purple had faded to a dark yellow, but Castiel was unconvinced that he would go unpunished for it.

Gabriel had spent most of the weekend attached to his phone, and the message alerts had become so annoying that Castiel thought he might hear it in his sleep if he had to listen to it any longer.

"Can't you turn that down?" He asked over his breakfast on Sunday morning when Gabriel's phone let out a loud burst of cackling laughter that meant he had yet another message. "Who is it?"

"Keep your nose out if you want to keep it straight," Gabriel muttered. He put the phone down after a moment and narrowed his eyes in a glare at Castiel. "Are you going to talk to Dean again so you can both quit pining already?"

"I don't see why I should," he said stubbornly. No, he still wasn't done being angry.

"For my sanity," Gabriel sighed, pouring himself a fifth cup of coffee. "Never know which of the seven dwarves I'm going to find myself living with when I wake up anymore, but I'm getting pretty sick of it being Grumpy."

"It's not that simple," Castiel argued. "He's a very confusing person."

"Yeah, well," Gabriel shook his head with a heavy sigh, "confused people usually are. You're both making it way more complicated than it needs to be, you know. You don't notice something when it's dancing in front of your face, and if you so much as think about asking Dean how he feels, he breaks out in hives."

"Well, that must be difficult for him," he said flatly.

"You really need to stop taking everything so literally," Gabriel picked up his phone and coffee and turned to leave the room, having apparently had enough of the conversation already. "He's not always as much of an asshole as you probably think he is, but don't you ever dare tell anyone I said that. Also, if anyone asks about this," he added, pointing to his face, "I got into a fight with a bear."

"I don't think there are any bears in Kansas."

"And I won," he persisted firmly.

Castiel watched Gabriel's retreating head disappear behind the kitchen door as it swung closed, leaving him alone in silence to scowl indignantly down at his breakfast.

"I don't _pine_," he grumbled at his now soggy cereal, pushing the bowl away.

He didn't want to stop being mad at Dean yet, but he could no longer figure out if he was staying away to punish him for being so tactless and hurtful, or if he was just being stubborn now. Maybe it was both. However, he did know that he didn't want to never talk to Dean again, and after turning him away once already he knew Dean wouldn't put himself out there like that again. At least Castiel knew enough to see that it was his turn to move.

He took one long slow breath and glared at the ceiling, wishing not for the first time in his life that he could understand people, or at least switch off his own emotions and stop caring so much.

– –

He'd expected it to be awkward on Monday morning, he'd even been prepared for Dean to be angry and snappish with him, but he hadn't anticipated that Dean would go out of his way to avoid him at all costs. When Dean walked into math class that morning Castiel had been prepared to be civil, but he'd spared no more than a momentary glance at Castiel before going straight to Mr Crowley to have a hushed discussion.

"Honeymoon period over already?" Mr Crowley asked loudly, smirking in amusement at Castiel, whose face flushed furiously. He thought he even saw the back of Dean's neck and ears grow a few shades pinker. "Well then, go ahead."

Without looking at anyone, Dean took his things over to the other side of the front row to an empty desk to sit by himself, leaving Castiel staring after him in stunned bewilderment and wondering what the hell he'd said to Mr Crowley.

And Gabriel thought Castiel's moods were unpredictable.

He didn't speak to Dean all day, and Dean didn't speak to him. Nor did they speak to each other the next day. Castiel went through his classes in his usual stoic silence and Dean would act like Castiel was invisible whenever he passed him in the corridors. One person who did seemed to notice him though, was Alastair. He said nothing and he never made any attempts to approach him, but Castiel noticed him watching carefully with narrowed eyes whenever he was around, whether Dean was nearby or not. It made Castiel a little uneasy, but ignoring it was easy enough since Alastair stayed out of his way, and he certainly wasn't going to make any efforts to get into Alastair's way.

Castiel wasn't even sure by this point whether he was more angry with Dean for ignoring him and being confusing, or more frustrated at himself because he just really missed him. It left a dull, hollow ache in his chest when he saw Dean sitting in the cafeteria at lunch alone or with people he normally wouldn't bother with.

By Wednesday Castiel was thoroughly fed up of it all. He got home from school on the afternoon and practically threw himself down into his chair at the desk in his room, and that's where Gabriel found him an hour later, with his head down on the cold desk and his untouched homework dumped in a messy heap on his bed.

"Dare I ask?" Gabriel groaned from the bedroom doorway, sounding as irritated as Castiel felt. "Or should I just make my best guess?"

Castiel looked up at his brother and tried to figure out a way to tell him the problem without saying exactly what it was, but without lying either. He quickly gave up and put his head back down.

"What's he said now?"

"Nothing," Castiel said, giving up the idea that he could deceive his brother.

"Then what?"

"That's it," he admitted, though he kept his head down to hide the blush spreading over his cheeks. "He has said absolutely nothing to me since he was here last – he won't even look at me – and I don't know why."

"Could you maybe rein in your Asperger's for like five minutes?" Gabriel sighed in exasperation. "You haven't exactly been rolling out a warm welcome to anyone lately, especially not him. You made it pretty clear you wanted some space, so he's giving it to you."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"What am I, your own personal agony aunt? Go talk to him," he snapped.

Dinner consisted of a family sized pasta microwave meal split between the two if them, which they ate in a heavy silence, and by the time night had come Castiel realised that he'd already made up his mind and he'd just been putting off what he knew he needed to do. He pulled on his too-large trench coat and left the house to talk to Dean. When he said goodbye to his brother he didn't say where he was going, but he was fairly sure Gabriel had already figured that out for himself.

It was a tepid night for late October, but the wind was bitter and most of the leaves had already fallen from the trees. The cold air helped to clear Castiel's head and cool what was left of his prickly mood, but when he found himself stood outside of the Winchester's home he wasn't really sure whether he wanted to go ahead with it or not anymore. Their father's truck wasn't parked outside so Castiel thought he could safely assume that he still hadn't come home, but from what little he knew about John Winchester he understood that it wasn't unusual for him to be gone for weeks at a time, much like his own father.

He knocked on the door before he could change his mind, though only softly, and waited nervously; half hoping that no one would answer. After a few minutes he started to turn to walk away, but he paused when he heard steps approaching from inside the house and Sam opened the door, smiling widely at him when he saw that it was Castiel.

"Hey, Cas," he said cheerfully, not seeming at all surprised to see him standing there at their doorstep. Castiel wondered if Gabriel had already called to let them know he was on his way.

"Where is your brother?" He asked.

"Try the closet," Sam said, amused and grinning at him. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe, watching Castiel for his reaction. Castiel stared for a moment, not entirely sure how he was supposed to appropriately respond to that. After a moment of silence Sam laughed and said, "Okay, never mind. Come on in."

He followed Sam into the house feeling a little out of place having never actually been inside the Winchester's home before now. The house wasn't that much warmer inside than it was outside, but at least there was no wind. Sam led him up the stairs to a door which he assumed was Dean's and he waited behind while Sam knocked on the door.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam said, opening the door slowly when he heard Dean's gruff reply.

When Castiel peered around the door to look inside he saw Dean lying on his stomach diagonally across his bed with his face in the covers and his cell phone in his hand dangling over the edge of the bed.

"Cas is here to see you," Sam told him.

Dean lifted his face to see Sam and Castiel standing in the doorway and scrambled off the bed to stand up, dropping his phone down onto his pillow.

"I'll be downstairs," Sam stated, giving Castiel a gentle push into the room and closing the door behind him.

They stood silently for a few minutes, not speaking to each other at all. Castiel stared around the room, pretending not to notice the way Dean was watching him nervously out of the corner of his eyes. Dean's bedroom was such a strange contrast to Castiel's own room; where his walls were bare, Dean's walls were covered with so many posters of cars, movies, and bands that Castiel wasn't sure what colour the wall underneath was, and while everything he owned fitted neatly into a drawer or his closet, Dean's stuff was everywhere. His room was packed with a slightly battered collection of books, DVDs, small model cars, and a large assortment of objects on display that all somehow managed to look tidy and well-ordered, rather than cluttered and messy like he'd expect it to. There was a small plain lamp that didn't really do much to light the room very well and a small, very old looking television perched on top of a chest of drawers, and a not-exactly-new looking laptop sitting on the desk in the corner where Dean's leather jacket was slung over the back of the chair nearby. Castiel almost had to physically restrain himself from going through everything, as though he could learn the inner workings of the Winchester mind by seeing it all.

"Some of those are Sam's," Dean said, seeing where Castiel was looking.

Castiel turned away from the bookshelf and sat at the end of Dean's bed, his eyes still roaming around the room and trying to take everything in. It was what Gabriel would call 'organised chaos'; it was all neat and ordered, there was just a lot of it. Dean sat next to him on the bed, staring down at his fingers.

"You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to," Castiel said, turning to look at him finally. Dean glanced up, peering at Castiel through his eyelashes just for a second before he looked back down at his hands again. Castiel tried not to get distracted by that. "But I need to know that you're not going to be like that again, otherwise it's not worth my time being here."

"I won't," Dean vowed quietly, looking Castiel in the eye properly for the first time since he'd walked into the room. All the anger Castiel had had left in him crumbled away and he sighed, frustrated at himself, but couldn't hold back a small smile. His smile only grew wider when Dean beamed back at him, and he wondered how ridiculous they both looked just sitting there grinning at each other, neither of them knowing what to do next. It was Dean who looked away first and cast his eyes around the room, looking like he was searching for what he was supposed to say next.

"So, you wanna do something?"

"Like what?" Castiel asked, head tilting involuntarily to one side in curiosity.

"I don't know," he cast his eyes around the room, desperately searching for anything to do that didn't involve talking about himself. "Just hang out. I could put a movie on or something?"

"You watch a lot of movies and television, Dean," Castiel hadn't meant it as a criticism, but Dean seemed to take it that way.

"Well, yeah I guess," he muttered.

"If you ever do want to talk about it, then I'd be happy to listen," Castiel said carefully, not wanting Dean to feel like he was being pushed, but wanting him to understand that he didn't have to keep it all in.

Perhaps that had been the wrong thing to say. Dean looked away awkwardly for a moment as though he was searching for something to say to change the subject as quickly as possible. Castiel picked the first excuse that came to him to get away.

"It's getting late," he said as he stood up from the bed. "I have homework to do."

"Nerd," Dean muttered quietly, but he said it with a small smile and what Castiel thought was maybe a hint of endearment, so if it made his stomach flutter and his cheeks grow warm, well then Castiel couldn't really be blamed for that. "See you at school tomorrow?"

It was a bit of an obvious question because they could hardly avoid seeing each other at school when they had classes together, but Castiel thought he knew what Dean was asking and he answered with a smile and a nod.

"Goodnight, Dean."

He turned away and left with the smile still on his his face, pausing only for a moment on his way out to say goodnight to Sam. He felt light, like he could have skipped home, and he didn't stop grinning the entire way.

When he got back home he was prepared for Gabriel's questions, but they never came. He wasn't really all that surprised though, he thought it was probably safe to assume that his brother was sick of the drama and fighting. He was getting pretty sick of it himself.

He lay in bed awake that night, still trying to wrap his mind around the meaning of it all and wondering where, if anywhere, this was going. As far as he could tell Dean had always been quite a closed off person, and he was harder for Castiel to read than most people, but there was something so caring about the way he behaved sometimes that it made Castiel wonder how much of it was just for show and how much of what people saw was the real Dean. Castiel had seen glimpses of it sometimes when Dean's guard was down and he became the gentler person without his mask. He wanted to get to know that person more, the person he'd fallen in –

No. He wouldn't even think that to himself. If he admitted that, even just in his own head, then it would be something impossible for him to ever come back from if he found out for certain that Dean really wasn't interested in anything more than a friendship.

It still gave him a warm feeling inside to remember all those times when Dean had let the mask fall away, even if only for a second; the smiles that never quite managed to become his typical smirk, the fleeting glances that held more warmth than the usual playful mockery, the caressing stroke of his strong hands over Castiel's hips and the damp warmth of his breath against tingling skin as his lips brushed lightly over Castiel's throat.

The warm feeling in his belly grew hotter and spread down between his legs where his hand was already dipping below the waistband of his boxers,teasing himself slowly with the tips of his fingers, just as Dean had done.

_"I want to know what dirty things you think up when you're alone touching yourself."_

He wondered how much thought Dean had put into that – wondered if it was something said in the heat of the moment, or if Dean had lay on that bed of his at night thinking about it sometimes. He closed his eyes and pictured the room again, only this time Dean was naked on his bed, hands touching himself, thinking of Castiel. His fist curled around the swell of his erection, making long lazy strokes, wishing it was Dean's hand on his dick instead of his own.

He wanted to say they were all dirty things, and a lot of the time they were, but there were just as many times he'd sent himself over the edge thinking of Dean's grin and the twinkle in his eyes when he looked at him that way, and the way his gut clenched whenever they accidentally touched. Wanting him was okay – that was allowed – but adoration and affection in that way that Castiel didn't want to admit to feeling; well he didn't think Dean would like it if he knew about that. Loving Dean was not allowed.

But he couldn't help the way he swelled with it. He couldn't help the way Dean had been slowly working his way under his skin more and more ever since that first moment they knew each other. He'd seen Dean around before, knew they were in the same year at school and a few of the same classes, but the first time he'd come to their house after the end of their sophomore year he'd smiled the brightest and most beautiful smile Castiel had ever seen and it had taken his breath away. And even though he, like the love-struck fool he was, put up with all the teasing that grew over the years that followed, he never could get that feeling to go away, however hard he tried to distance himself from it and from Dean.

Dean, at that first moment of being introduced by Gabriel, had only had to direct that smile at him and say a quiet – almost shy – "Hey, Cas," and Castiel was lost.

Castiel bit his lip to hold back the low groan that rumbled in his chest threatening to burst out, and planted his feet firmly into the mattress as he thrust up into his hand, feeling the coil of want inside of him winding tighter and hotter until he spilled warm and wet over his hand and belly with a quiet gasp.

He lay there in the dark after working himself through his orgasm, with the back of his other wrist pressed over his forehead, wiping away the thin layer of sweat that had gathered there and wondering at what point he'd fallen so hard that he'd given up really trying to stop it. It was a few minutes before he could force himself to get out of bed and go to the bathroom to clean up.

Even if he didn't want to admit it, he knew he couldn't lie to himself. He was already too far gone on that boy to ever hope to come back from it. Dean, as far as anyone knew, had always run away from any girl when things started getting emotional. He'd give them the cold shoulder and push them away, often harshly. Being wanted for his body was something Dean was happy with, and it wasn't exactly a difficult leap to figure out since these last few weeks that Dean already knew Castiel liked him that way, and that he was obviously very okay with that, but he probably wouldn't be as okay if he thought Castiel's feelings for him were more than just a physical attraction.

Emotions were complicated; Castiel struggled to understand them, and Dean seemed to put his best efforts into running and hiding from them.

– –

He was pleased to see Dean already sitting at their table in math the following day, and although it took a little while for the awkwardness to drain away, it only took a shared grin for them to fall back into a more comfortable silence. When they did speak to each other it was short and hushed, cautious like they were both unsure how friendly they could be yet.

By Friday sitting next to Dean felt strangely to Castiel as though he'd slipped through time somehow and the last two weeks hadn't happened. Dean greeted him with an almost easy smile and then sat next to him doing very little work, opting instead to spend his time trying to put Castiel off doing his own work. Castiel managed to ignore the shoe tapping against his chair leg, and even the ridiculous amount of times Dean managed to 'accidentally' knock their elbows together, forcing Castiel's hand to draw a line through his answers, but by the fourth time he turned his head and caught Dean staring he was beginning to feel paranoid that something was wrong again.

"Can I help you with something?" He'd meant to sound more irritated than he did, but truthfully he was pleased that Dean's discomfort had abated. If Dean's grin was anything to go by, he knew it too.

"Maybe," he kept his voice low, smiling down at his hands where he rolled his pencil between his fingers. "You could swing by my place later?"

"To watch more television?"

"No," Dean huffed out a laugh. "I kinda had something else in mind."

"Like what?" Castiel asked, apprehensive.

"Hey," he said, looking up to see Castiel's hesitation, "don't look at me like that. I just want to hang out without our brothers around for once."

Castiel didn't ask why, even though he wanted to. He answered with a smile and then focused on his work, figuring it would be easier for him if he simply went with wherever this was going for now.

He spent the rest of the school day in a happy daze, musing over whatever it could be that Dean had asked to see him for.

John's black truck was parked out front when Castiel reached the Winchester house and his stomach gave an unexpected lurch of trepidation. Dean hadn't mentioned that his dad would be home, but knowing even what little he did about the man, Castiel could easily believe that Sam and Dean probably hadn't known about it themselves. Still, he wasn't going to walk away now.

He knocked on the door and waited, hoping it wouldn't be John who answered. It wasn't. Dean opened the door and grinned at him, moving aside without a word to let Castiel step inside.

"Your father's home?" Castiel asked, glancing around.

"Yeah," he nodded toward the living room and led Castiel inside. "Just got back. Hey, Dad. This is Cas."

John was sat in a slightly worn looking armchair with his head rested against the back and his eyes closed. When he heard Dean's voice he opened his eyes and sat up a little straighter, but he looked very tired. He had dark circles under his eyes, he hadn't shaved in at least a few days, and his clothes were creased like he might have slept in his truck and then got straight back on the road. The man was clearly exhausted, but still he somehow managed to become more alert at the knowledge that there was someone in his house that he had never met.

He regarded Castiel searchingly, making him feel like he was being inspected and like he should have maybe ran a comb through his hair, despite John's own dishevelled appearance, before standing up and holding out his hand. It took a moment for Castiel to realise that he was supposed to take it, but he quickly stepped forward and shook his hand.

"John Winchester," he said, voice stiff and formal, but not unfriendly.

"Castiel Novak."

"Novak," John said, letting his hand drop back down. "You're that Gabriel kid's brother, aren't you?"

"Yes," Castiel confessed, wondering if Gabriel had somehow gotten on John's bad side. It wouldn't be surprising at all. John eyed him carefully for a moment, but then gave a huff and turned away to sit back down again.

"I'm going out," Dean said, but he hung back as though waiting for permission.

John didn't give his approval, but he didn't protest either and Dean seemed to take that as the go-ahead. John looked like he was falling asleep in his chair. Dean motioned with his head for Castiel to follow him to the front door, grabbing his coat and keys silently before he stepped outside. Castiel followed, making sure to shut the door quietly behind him.

"Where are we going?" He asked.

"You'll see when we get there," Dean assured him, rolling his eyes.

Castiel frowned when Dean avoided looking at him, but he didn't hesitate to get into the car after him.

The drive wasn't long, but it was too quiet until Dean put in one of his cassette tapes and began drumming his fingers on the steering wheel along with the music. Castiel said nothing and tried not to stare at Dean too much while he waited to find out where they were going.

When they pulled up near the side of a large lake Castiel looked to Dean for an explanation. He switched off the engine and the music cut out, leaving a strange ringing silence while Dean just stared out of the window over the lake. It was a few minutes before he managed to say anything.

"Bobby used to bring me here sometimes before he moved away," he said, still avoiding eye contact. "We'd come fishing when my dad was in one of his moods. Sam would either come with us or stay back at Bobby's place with Karen. Then we'd go back there and she'd cook us up a huge meal and pie for after."

Castiel didn't say anything. Dean had a wistful sort of smile on his face as he stared out through the window over the surface of the lake, and Castiel didn't want to interrupt or risk ruining it.

"It was weird, you know? Kind of like we were part of a normal family, just for a few hours."

He knew that Bobby had moved away a few years ago when his wife, Karen, had died. She'd been killed; murdered because she had gotten in the way when someone broke into their home at night while she was unable to sleep and had stayed up late baking. Bobby had woke up to the sound of her screaming and found her bleeding out on the floor with a stab wound to the chest. He hadn't known Bobby or his wife personally, but he'd been sad to hear about it. Their story had been the local tragedy for a while. The police had caught the burgler not long after the incident, and he was charged and jailed, but that wouldn't bring Karen back, and Bobby hadn't been able to live in that house anymore. Now he owned a run-down old vehicle repair yard in Sioux Falls where he had a reputation as the town drunk.

He also knew that 'one of his moods' was code for 'drunk and in a rage'. John had taken the death of his wife hard for a long time, but from what he'd heard Castiel believed that John had gotten much better lately. He hoped that was true.

"I like coming to sit out here sometimes," Dean sighed. "It's peaceful, you know? I can stop pretending I give a crap about school or whatever else."

Castiel had no idea why Dean was doing this – though he suspected, and hoped, that he was an easier person to open up to than Gabriel – but it gave him a pleasant feeling inside to know that Dean wanted to share the good memories with him, and was willing to share even the bad ones too. He didn't dare speak just yet in case it broke whatever spell had hold of him. They sat in the car for a little while longer, neither one making a move until Dean seemed to snap out of his reverie and he schooled his face so that the thoughtful expression was hastily replaced by his usual cocky grin.

"Come on," he chuckled.

They stepped out of the car and Castiel was glad he had remembered to bring his coat with him this time. It wasn't exactly cold, but the breeze still had a bite to it out there in the open. They were the only people there as far as Castiel could see, and the sun was hanging low in the sky reflected in the rippling surface of the lake. It would be dark soon, but they had time yet before the sun went down.

Dean grabbed the cooler that he kept in the back of the car and led Castiel down to the short edge of the lake. He settled down on the rough wood with his legs stretched out in front of himself and one hand stretched out behind him to keep him steady, and gave a small smile when Castiel sat cautiously by his side. From inside the cooler Dean took out a couple of beers and handed one to Castiel without a word, and they drank in silence for a while, watching the gentle movement of the water in the wind.

Castiel tilted his head back to gaze up at the sky, wondering if there was a reason why Dean had brought him here, but enjoying the peace and calm. After a while he stopped wondering anything at all and just stared aimlessly off into space.

By the time Dean decided to disturb the silence, Castiel had fallen into a sort of trance staring up at the clouds as they moved by above their heads and watching the formations changing shape.

"We were friends," Dean said as he took a second bottle from the box. He didn't look at Castiel. "A couple year ago."

Castiel stared at him in bewilderment, not sure what they were talking about, but when Dean glanced up at him he realised and said, "Alastair." Dean gave a short nod and looked away again.

"We weren't friends at first," he continued. Castiel said nothing, seeing that Dean was finding it difficult and not wanting to discourage him. "In fact the guy hated me, and I still don't even know why, but he made sure I knew about it. After a while he started telling me that if I joined him and his friends and did what they told me then the beatings would stop. I said no, for a while, but I…"

Dean looked like he was either going to throw up or start crying and Castiel wasn't sure which would make him feel worse right now, but he didn't. Instead he took a breath and carried on, "So I started hurting people with him. For him."

"I don't remember that," Castiel said, forgetting that he wasn't supposed to speak.

"Well you wouldn't," he snorted. "It's not like you ever noticed me. Anyway, when I got out of it he kinda just started ignoring me. I thought he'd leave me alone and forget about me, but I guess he didn't."

Castiel wanted to ask how he'd gotten away from that, but his brain was still reeling over the fact that Dean had noticed him enough to notice him not noticing Dean, and that made his head hurt, so he pushed it away and helped himself to another beer from the cooler while he concentrated on listening. Dean tensed when Castiel leaned over him, but then relaxed again when he realised what he was doing.

"He still gives me crap sometimes, you know, and I didn't want him knowing anything 'cause I didn't want him to give you any trouble," Dean's voice was very small, and he seemed to be very interested in picking at a loose thread hanging from his jeans.

Castiel wasn't sure exactly what to think or feel about that either, so instead he said, "I can look after myself."

"Yeah," Dean huffed out a quiet laugh, "I've noticed. I just didn't want him causing problems for you, that's all."

He seemed to have finished, and Castiel wasn't sure if he was supposed to say anything or not, so they sat listening to the water quietly lapping around the dock while the sun slowly crawled lower in the sky, and watching the sunset reflected on the surface of the lake gradually changing the water from a deep cerulean blue to a blazing orange.

Dean drained the bottle in his hand and lay down on his back on the dock. Castiel lay beside him, no longer feeling any awkwardness when they ended up pressed together shoulder to shoulder and staring up at the darkening sky.

"You shouldn't feel guilty," he said eventually, turning his head to look at Dean. The low light from the sunset on Dean's face highlighted the freckles dusted over his cheeks and nose, and Castiel wished he could hold onto this moment forever – to preserve their time there by the lakeside so that it would never have to end. But night was almost on them already. "For what he made you do."

"Right," Dean muttered, reaching into the cooler without sitting up. He didn't seem to want to continue the discussion a now that he'd gotten it off his chest, but Castiel felt he needed to hear it.

"You didn't just choose to do it," he said. "And you stopped."

"I was a bully," Dean snapped. "And I'm done talking about it."

"No, you're not a bad person."

Dean snorted incredulously.

"You're not," Castiel insisted, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder and gripping tight like he hoped he could drag Dean out of whatever messed up self-hating place he had put himself in. Dean glared at him, but only for a short while before his face softened and he turned away again.

"Dude," he laughed coldly, "I think your opinion of me is a little higher than it should be."

"And your opinion of you is much lower than you deserve."

"Hey, I've been a dick and I've treated you like shit. Why do you even like me?"

"I like you when you're like this," he admitted easily.

"Like what?"

"Just being yourself," he shrugged. "Not putting up a wall. I enjoy being with you when you're like this. I want to be with you when you're like this."

"Well, you're not too bad yourself," he laughed quietly, almost nervously, and looking flustered. "You know, for a nerdy little guy."

Castiel could have sworn he saw a faint blush on Dean's cheeks, but he said nothing and he hid his smile. He liked that he could have the same effect on Dean as what Dean had on him. He shivered slightly from the cold, fingers curling up in the fabric of Dean's jacket where he still held onto his shoulder, but Dean didn't seem to notice the dip in temperature.

As the last rays of light began disappearing behind the horizon, the water turned to a dark steely grey and the chill air grew colder.

"This place is special to you," Castiel said. It wasn't a question, but Dean answered him anyway.

"Yeah," he said, almost whispering it. "It is."

"Thank you for sharing it with me."

Dean looked at him, and then down at the hand still holding onto his shoulder. Castiel snatched his hand back fast like he'd been burned and muttered an apology, but he was unable to take his eyes from Dean's. Dean had lectured him before on personal space, but he wasn't sure how close he was allowed to get now that Dean had offered friendship. Someone should really write a guidebook for that, he decided; a _How To Socialise and Not Freak Out Your Friends_ book.

"You're weird," Dean told him. When Castiel frowned, not sure how to respond, he added, "I didn't mean in a bad way."

"Is there a good way to be weird?"

"Yeah," he said, but he didn't elaborate.

Dean turned over onto his side, propping himself on his elbow to look down at Castiel, suddenly looking worryingly tense as though he was about to confess to something awful.

"Cas, about the other night when I … when we … you know?" Dean said, taking a few deep breaths like he was about to take a dive. Castiel's heart skipped a beat while he waited for Dean to continue. His face was so close he couldn't help letting his eyes flick down to Dean's mouth, thinking about how easy it would be for him to just lean up and close the gap of the small space between them. "I'm sorry. I was drunk and it was stupid. I mean, I shouldn't have done that. It was a mistake. I just –"

Castiel's heart plummeted down into his stomach so fast that he winced and couldn't manage to swallow past the lump stuck in his throat. So it had only been a drunken experiment like he'd thought. And if it was a mistake then … well at least that meant Dean had figured himself out then, he knew he shouldn't feel surprised, and he wasn't, not really, but it still left a bitter feeling of rejection. He tried to breathe, to not suffocate under the weight of his disappointment.

Dean seemed to have already done all the feelings talk he could for one day and was struggling to force his words out. Castiel decided to end the conversation and save Dean the trouble of having to have a 'moment' before it could make the situation any more uncomfortable than it already was, and to save himself from having to listen to anything else that would only hurt for him to hear.

"It's fine," he muttered, staring up at the stars so that he wouldn't have to see the relief on Dean's face. "I understand."

"You do?" Dean asked, taken aback. Castiel nodded his head quickly. "Oh, well … Okay then. So, we're good?"

Castiel gave another short nod, not trusting his voice not to choke him if he tried to speak again. He hated himself for having had hope, however small his hope had been. A moment ago he'd felt so content, but now he was feeling very uncomfortable with the way Dean was looking down at him.

The angry regret he felt for allowing himself to dare to dream when he should have known better – he _did_ know better – threatened to crush him for a moment. Just as Castiel had decided that maybe he should leave, Dean's phone rang and he jumped up to answer it.

"Hey, Sam? Wait, slow down. What are you … what do you mean 'leaving'?" His face went from confusion to anger in less than a second. Castiel got to his feet as he listened to Dean's side of the call. "But he just got here. Right, okay, I'm coming home. Right now."

He flipped the phone shut with a harsh snap and grabbed the cooler from the dock. Castiel followed him to the car and got in silently, wondering if Dean would tell him what was going on, though he was sure his guess that John was leaving again would be correct. Dean drove in an angry silence, not even turning on the radio.

By the time they reached the house night had fully fallen and the front yard was lit by the security light above the door when it sensed their movement. Dean waited for Castiel to get out of the car before locking it, so Castiel assumed that Dean wanted him to go inside with him. If there was an argument about to take place, then Castiel wasn't sure he was comfortable being there to witness it, but then he thought maybe Dean wanted a friend with him. He could be Dean's friend, he decided. At least Dean had been honest with him.

He wondered for a moment when he had reached the point of being so far gone on Dean that he'd take whatever he could get , no matter how much it hurt him. If a friendship was all that Dean had to give him, he'd take it.

As soon as they walked through the front door they saw Sam waiting for them, anger more evident that sadness on his face, though his eyes were red and he looked like there had already been an argument. Castiel waited there with him by the door while Dean stomped loudly into the next room. There were hushed voices, then louder voices, and Castiel tried his best not to listen to any of it, not feeling it was his place.

"You haven't even been here a day," Dean argued, following behind as John stepped out into the hallway.

"I need the work, Dean," John sighed, irritated. "We need the money."

"Can't you just –"

"Hey, now you listen, boy," John said, his voice dropping low when his patience wore out. Dean stood up a little straighter at his dad's firmer tone. "I need to do this job. You know that, Dean, and I need you to take care of things here. Now, can you man up and do that for me?"

Castiel saw the shine in Dean's eyes when the defiant look on his face slipped away and he averted his eyes, staring down at the floor instead. It occurred to Castiel that he didn't actually know what type of job John had, but he certainly wasn't going to ask right now.

"Dean?" He growled out slowly, almost like it was a warning.

"Yes, sir," Dean answered him eventually.

"Good. I'll be back in a few days," John told him, picking up his bag. "You look after your little brother."

"Yes, sir," he repeated.

John ruffled Sam's hair lightly as he passed and said a quiet, "You be good, son."

Sam didn't answer him.

The three of them watched through the front door silently until John's truck pulled away down the street and disappeared into the night. Sam was the first to move, slamming the front door shut before he went into the living room. He shut that door behind him too. Dean's jaw clenched tight and he continued to watch the door for a moment as though willing his father to come back through it, but then he snapped out of his furious trance and started up the stairs. When Castiel didn't move he called down, "You coming or what?"

He considered leaving to go home, but then followed up the stairs to Dean's bedroom. Dean was lying flat on his back on his bed with his eyes closed when Castiel got to the room. He shut the door behind him and sat stiffly on the side of the bed with his back to Dean.

"Do you want to–?"

"No," Dean growled out sharply. After a moment he sat up with a quiet sigh and said, "Sorry, man. But no, I don't want to talk about it."

"I understand," Castiel said, and he did, at least in part. He often felt the same when his father had to go away for work on short notice, but he knew the situation was different and he didn't say anything more about it. Whatever it was, it was their business, not his. He watched Dean watching him, not sure what to expect.

What he was definitely not expecting was for Dean to surge forward and press their lips together, kissing him hard and fast. Castiel melted into it, allowing Dean to part his lips with his tongue, his hand coming up to cup Castiel's jaw, but it only lasted a few seconds before Castiel pulled himself away and moved toward the door.

"I should go," he said quickly. _Before you do something else you'll regret._

"Oh," Dean looked confused for a second, and then it dissolved into hurt and humiliation. He sat back on the bed against the wall and looked away. "I thought … Never mind."

"You thought what?" Castiel asked, thoroughly confused now. Was Dean expecting him to continue to allow him to use him for his own curiosity? Or did Dean feel like he had to do this to be his friend because he knew Castiel wanted it? Maybe he had misunderstood something, but there was no way it could end well for anyone if they continued like this.

Thinking it would at least make Dean feel more comfortable with him he added, "I'm okay with us just being friends, Dean."

He could be Dean's friend, or he could be more, but he wouldn't just be a tool or a plaything to be used. If he let it happen again he wasn't sure he would have the resolve to stop Dean a third time.

"Right," Dean said, glaring down at his own fists curled tight on his knees. He swallowed and gave a quick nod. "Yeah, you're right. You should go."

"No, Dean. You thought what?" He stood his ground, deciding that he wasn't moving from that spot until Dean explained himself. This game of having to guess what the other wanted was getting them nowhere.

"Well," he said, growing redder in the face, "I thought we were … you know?"

Castiel waited, but Dean wouldn't go any further.

"Dean."

"Look, it's fine," he snapped. "It doesn't matter. Just leave. If you don't want to be here then get out." His voice grew smaller as he spoke, until Castiel wasn't sure if Dean even meant for him to hear the rest of it. "You can stop giving me that horsecrap about wanting to be with me. You could have just said no."

Castiel struggled for a moment, shocked out of his frustration. It took him several long seconds to put everything together and form a response. He hadn't realised Dean would take what he'd said that way.

"Earlier by the lake, you said you were drunk and I thought you were trying to say you wished you hadn't."

"Cas," Dean groaned miserably, putting his face into his hands. He looked like he was either going to start throwing punches or burst into angry laughter. "I was trying to say sorry for freaking out and running away."

"Then why did you run away?"

"Because I was scared, okay?" He yelled. He glanced quickly at the door, wary of Sam hearing him, and lowered his voice before he continued. "Because I was drunk and I wasn't thinking and I shouldn't have done it the way I did. Because you're Gabriel's brother and he's going to kill me when he finds out. Because I've been an asshole to you and I thought you'd be pissed about it. Because I'm an idiot and I screw everything up and I didn't want …" his voice cracked and he had to take a few slow deep breaths before he could continue more calmly. "I didn't want to screw it up with you. But I guess I managed that anyway."

He stopped to take another long shaky breath and Castiel waited until Dean looked calmer before saying, "I thought you we confused. I thought you were just using me to experiment."

"What? No!" He looked up, finally meeting Castiel's eyes. "Jesus, Cas, no. I mean, I know I've been an ass, but am I really that bad? Why'd you let me do it if that's what you thought? Why would you even talk to me again?"

Castiel knew the reason why, but he couldn't say it – reminded himself that it wasn't allowed – so he ignored Dean's last two questions.

"It wouldn't be any different to what you've done to anyone else you've been with," Castiel said. Dean narrowed his eyes, glaring sullenly up at him for a moment, and then looked down at his hands where he seemed to have developed a sudden fascination for his own fingernails while Castiel went on, "I didn't think you'd want any more. Not that way. I thought –"

"I like you, Cas," he interrupted, spitting his words out fast, his face turning redder by the second. "Okay? A lot. That way. Can you just trust me on that so we can stop talking about it now?"

Castiel stood with his mouth hanging open for a second before he remembered to close it. The minutes ticked by and when he stills couldn't decide what to say to that, Dean started to look more anxious.

"Would you say something already, please? Anything," Dean pleaded.

Castiel sat back next to him on the bed with a sheepish smile tugging at his lips before could stop it. He didn't know what to say, so instead he leaned in to press his lips to Dean's, hoping that that would say what he meant. It was different this time; a slow dry press of their lips and bumping noses, and it ended far too quickly. Relief and something that looked like awe spread on Dean's face, but Castiel was sure it was nothing to the feeling of joy that spread through him like wildfire to know that he could have this at least, that Dean really wanted him.

They both hesitated for a short moment before crowding back into each other's personal spaces. Castiel could have paused there and just used that moment to study Dean's face up close and trace the pattern of Dean's freckles with his fingers. But then Dean's hands were on his face, gentle yet insistent, pulling him closer, and he was kissing him again. They went slow again at first, taking the time to explore each other's mouths without the rush of desperation that their other kisses had had. But then Dean's hands slipped down from Castiel's cheeks and were pulling demandingly at the lapels of his trench coat, trying to pull the coat off and use it to pull Castiel closer at the same time. He wriggled his way out of the coat without breaking contact with Dean's lips, and once he was free of it, he pressed up closer, pushing Dean onto his back on his bed to sit with his knees on either side of Dean's hips, pinning him there.

"Wait, wait," Dean said quickly, like he was just coming to his senses. Castiel stopped immediately, thinking maybe he'd pushed too far. Even though it was Dean that had started it, Castiel didn't want him to feel under any pressure to do anything unless he was sure.

"Do you want me to go?" He asked, feeling his heart thudding brutally against his ribs. _Say no. Please, say no._

"No," Dean gripped his wrist as though he thought Castiel would run away. Castiel felt a flood of relief and affection. "Don't go. It's just, well a minute ago you said you thought I was using you."

"Are you?"

"No."

"And you still want this?"

"Yes."

Castiel leaned forward to kiss Dean again, sucking Dean's bottom lip into his mouth and worrying it gently between his teeth. Dean made a noise that sounded somewhere between a laugh and a gasp, and ran his hands smoothly up the back of Castiel's t-shirt and dragged his blunt nails down his skin, making shivers run down Castiel's spine and heat pool in his abdomen. He licked into Dean's mouth, kissing deeply while he pulled Dean's t-shirt until it was bunched under his arms, and he pulled back only for a second to drag it up over Dean's head and throw it aside.

"You sure you want …" Dean's question turned into a breathy moan as Castiel deliberately rocked his hips, grinding their dicks together through the fabric of their jeans.

Yes, he wanted. He wanted so badly that he felt it burning under his skin and in his blood and over every inch of him like there was lava running through his veins. He wanted so badly that his chest ached with longing for it like he could hardly breathe. He wanted to touch and to taste every inch of skin covering Dean's body. He wanted to spend lazy days sitting together watching movies so he could find out which ones made Dean laugh in that way that gave Castiel butterflies, and which ones got him so excited that he couldn't help sharing trivia about the story. He wanted to learn all of Dean's smiles that he hadn't been given the chance to study yet and discover every spot on his body that gave him the greatest pleasure. He wanted to go places and see things with Dean, and to share all of the things that were special to him. He wanted to be able to reach out, to run his fingers through Dean's hair whenever the urge took him, or to put his hand in Dean's just so that he could feel their palms pressed together.

He wanted all of Dean – to know him completely in body, mind and soul – and he wanted to give all of himself back too.

But instead of telling any of that to Dean, he rocked against him again and pressed his mouth to the skin of Dean's neck and under his jaw, kissing and sucking the soft skin there, nipping with his teeth. He tasted the salt of Dean's skin on his tongue, and he smelled the soap from his last shower where the scent clung in his hair as his kisses travelled up Dean's jawline and behind his ear, making Dean shudder and gasp, thrusting his hips up into Castiel's. he held on to Dean, one hand gripping tightly onto his hip, fingers pressing in hard, and the other tangling in his hair, while Dean's hands roamed up over his ribs under his t-shirt and then down his back again and again. Castiel growled low and pressed himself closer against the hard lines of Dean's body, wishing he could have all of it, claim him, mark him, caress every inch.

"Don't get me wrong here, 'cause I'm definitely not complaining," Dean muttered quietly with a grin on his lips, tipping his head back to bare his throat for Castiel to keep doing what he was doing to him, "but I think I started this date with a shy nerdy little dude who looked a lot like you."

Castiel paused and pulled back, staring wide eyed down at Dean panting underneath him. His brain blinked out for a second before he remembered his words.

"This was a date?"

"Well," Dean squirmed, flushing pink down his neck and chest. "I kind of screwed the last one up pretty badly."

"That was a date?" His eyes grew wider. He was starting to feel repetitive, but couldn't think of anything smarter to say at the moment.

"Not if you didn't want it to be," Dean said, with a hint of defensiveness in his voice.

"But you don't _do_ dates."

"Well I – do we really have to get into this conversation right now?"

Dean's hands moved down and squeezed gently on the top of Castiel's thighs as he rolled his hips up and Castiel forgot whatever it was he'd been about to say. He went back to kissing; slowly mapping out every part of Dean that he could get to, wanting to know all of him, and working his way down from his neck to his stomach while Dean shivered underneath him, biting his lip. When he unbuckled the belt on Dean's jeans and unfastened the button, Dean made a small noise that Castiel worried was a protest and his hands froze in the act of pulling down the zipper before he could tug them down.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked. Even to his own ears his voice sounded deeper, rougher with wanting.

"God no," Dean said, but he pulled Castiel back up to kiss him instead, dragging him back into position astride him. His hands moved over Castiel's stomach and slide his fingers into the front of his now too tight jeans, popping open the button.

Castiel pulled off his t-shirt and dropped it somewhere near Dean's on the floor. Dean's hands stopped moving and he swallowed as his eyes dragged up and down Castiel's bare torso.

"You, uh, really shouldn't cover up with loose clothes so much," he muttered, making Castiel's cheeks and ears burn even as he grinned down at him.

Dean wasted no time pulling Castiel out of his boxers and fumbling with his other hand to pull down his own pants, only getting both of them far enough that they weren't in the way. He wrapped his fist around Castiel's hardened cock, stroking slow and steady while he held the back of Castiel's head to pull it close to his and licked his way into his mouth again, swallowing down the small needy moans that Castiel couldn't hold himself back from making. Dean's stubble grazed against his chin, adding to the heat that had spread over his whole body and coiled down low in his belly.

Castiel broke off the kiss to look down and take Dean in his hand, matching the pace of his strokes. He watched Dean's face, watched his eyes rolling back and lips part. He wished he could say all of the things he wanted Dean to know; how right he felt when he was with Dean, how good Dean made him feel, and how much he wanted to be able to make him feel those things too.

Dean stopped for a moment to pull Castiel's hips back closer to his own again and then he pressed their lengths together, closing his fist over Castiel's and weaving their fingers together.

Castiel thought he might lose his mind at the sensation, feeling both their cocks hot and hard between their joined hands, seeing them flushed red and leaking precome at the tips already as they both thrust into their moving hands.

It was quick and desperate, frantically chasing their release together with a feverish need. Castiel bit his lip to stifle a moan, but couldn't hold it back completely. He looked down, eyes hooded with heavy lids and breathing fast, to see Dean staring up at him in what looked almost like wonder, and Castiel could barely believe they were here.

He heard a low whimper as he saw white and came, painting hot wet streaks over Dean's hand and belly as his orgasm punched out of him, unable to bring himself to care when he knew the noises were his own. Castiel was still coming down from his high when Dean tensed underneath him and followed.

Blissed out of his mind, Castiel let himself flop down to lie over Dean, unconcerned of the sticky mess between them. Dean raised one shaky hand to Castiel's chin, tilting his head up into another kiss. Slow and lazy, their mouths moved together again, and Castiel felt so warm and drowsy that he almost didn't register the sound of a door opening elsewhere in the house, but then a warning bell sounded inside of his head and he froze.

Sam.

He'd forgotten that Sam was still there in the house with them.

"Cas, what –?"

Castiel quickly placed a hand over Dean's mouth and nodded towards the door. They heard Sam's footsteps coming up the stairs and towards the bedroom. Dean's eyes widened in terror as they waited with baited breath, and feeling their hearts beating out a mad rhythm in their chests where they were pressed together, praying that the door wouldn't open. Castiel's ears were still ringing from the force of his climax, every inch of him tingling, and every pulse around his body felt like it was doing some crazy happy dance, all making him dizzier as he held his breath. Their shared alarm at the threat of being discovered did nothing to help him calm down at all.

Sam's footsteps came closer, and then passed right by Dean's bedroom door and away into his own room. They breathed again once they heard him shut his door.

Castiel couldn't help the near silent fit of laughter that came over him when the panic was over, burying his face into the curve of Dean's neck and shoulder to stifle any small sounds that escaped him. Maybe it was the adrenaline of almost being caught, or the look of faint relief that covered Dean's face – drained of colour in his fright – like he'd just survived a near death experience. It was probably a bit of both, he decided. Dean elbowed him aside, though gently, and Castiel allowed himself to be moved to lie next to Dean on the bed, still laughing quietly.

"Shit," Dean whispered, wiping the sweat from his brow with a shaking hand.

"It's only Sam."

"Not exactly the kind of situation I want him to walk in on," Dean pointed out, glancing down to draw Castiel's attention to where they were both still hanging out of their jeans and covered in each other's sweat and come.

"That is a very good point," Castiel muttered soberly, his laughter dying away instantly.

Dean leaned over the side of the bed to retrieve his t-shirt and he used it to clean their mess up, gently wiping the come from Castiel's stomach before it could dry, and then his own. Castiel watched Dean closely as he did, though Dean was carefully avoiding his eye. They closed up their jeans and then, after a minute of awkward silence between them, Castiel leaned in and rested his head on Dean's chest. Dean didn't seem to know how he wanted to react for a few seconds, but then he relaxed and wrapped an arm around Castiel's shoulders to pull him in closer.

"You don't think he heard, do you?" Castiel asked. He was used to people being awkward around him, but nothing close to 'talking to the guy you overheard your brother having sex with' levels of awkward yet.

Dean hummed a quiet laugh that Castiel felt in his hand where it rested on Dean's ribs. "Nah, you were pretty quiet compared to last time."

Castiel shoved him playfully, but smiled. He knew he would have to get dressed and go home very soon, but for now he would let himself enjoy this moment. He closed his eyes and wrapped himself in closer still, tangling their legs together and listening to the rhythmic sound of Dean's breathing and the steady beating of his heart in his chest.

"Uh, Cas?"

"If you're planning on running away again," Castiel muttered sleepily into Dean's chest, "you should know that I'm not moving."

Dean let out a huff of air that might have been a laugh and said, "No, I just wanted to ask – Can we keep this to ourselves? Just for now?"

There was a moment when he heard the skip of Dean's heart and he knew that he was talking about more than what had already happened between them.

"You want me to lie?" He looked up and Dean frowned at him. He wasn't even sure yet what 'this' was, but it was a promise of something more and he knew he wanted it badly.

They heard a quiet pattering against the bedroom window as it began to rain, slowly increasing speed as Castiel waited for Dean to reply.

"Well, it sounds bad when you put it like that," Dean said eventually. "It's not like I want to hide it forever. I just want this to be ours – only ours – just for a little while, that's all, you know?"

The nonchalant way Dean shrugged it off did nothing to easy Castiel's discomfort. He saw no reason why he should have to explain his sexuality to anyone when he'd thought that there was little chance of anything like this happening, but now that it had happened he wasn't sure he was comfortable with outright lying to his brother about it. Not that he necessarily wanted to give any details, but he just didn't like feeling that it was something he should have to keep a secret. He did at least understand though that even if he was ready for that, Dean wasn't. At least he knew what Dean wanted a little more clearly than before and he could be content with that small mercy. He could be content with keeping this thing they had private for now.

And maybe he would feel better about it if he just kept on telling himself that.

"Okay," he sighed, tipping his head back to land a soft kiss on Dean's jaw. "For a little while."


End file.
